Hit Me With Your Best Shot
by broadwaybuff
Summary: Jesse St. James and Rachel Berry could not be more different. Or so they thought. What happens when these two team captains clash horns once VA and ND are forced to share an auditorium for an entire year? Will you be Team St. James or Team Berry?
1. Fire Away

**Disclaimer:** _FIRST; I do not own Glee._

_SECOND; There will be no baby-mama-drama between Rachel and Shelby in this._

_THIRD; The timeline of this story starts very, very early though it does not follow canon. Perhaps around the fourth episode, when Glee Club is only *just* beginning to blossom. _

_FOURTH; Quinn isn't pregnant. Or isn't pregnant yet? You'll find out as the story progresses._

**Author's Note:** _Hello, hello, hello! It has been quite awhile hasn't it? Oh boy, I've got some major catching up to do, it's not even funny. Alright, all I have to say for now is that this chapter is pretty short, but it's an introductory to the characters of Vocal Adrenaline. They'll be playing some major roles in this story and to the relationship of VA-ND. It's going to be a wild ride of clashing personalities and egos when the two teams meet as these kids are conflicted enough with each other. Then again... families will tend to be that way. I hope you enjoy their dynamicism. You can be sure to expect more in chapters to come. _

_Don't forget to READ, ENJOY, and REVIEW. Hugs (that suffocate) and kisses (that smother) from me to all you lovely people! =)_

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**HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT**

**Summary: **_Jesse St. James, star of Vocal Adrenaline and Rachel Berry, the oddly exuberant loser of McKinley High could not be more different. What happens when these two team captains clash horns once VA and ND are forced to share an auditorium for an entire year? Will you be Team St. James or Team Berry? Well, there's always a fine line between love and hate... one could never tread it carefully enough.  
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**Rating:** _Rated for coarse language and sexually suggestive themes. Hence, rating changes as story progresses._

**Pairing:** _Heavy on the St. Berry, most definitely. But, also features other pairings to be revealed in future chapters._

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"Go fuck yourself!"

Jesse St. James pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes carefully. The shrill voice of Jenny Sweet's continued to ring in his ears. He lowered himself in his seat, allowing the battle to ensue between the rest of the team and the junior attorney.

"_My _daddy's lawyers will not be happy with this! How am I supposed to grow if I don't even have a fucking stage to grow on?" the short, pale brunette's voice escalated about ten octaves as she stamped her feet impatiently.

"Keep inhaling those doughnuts after practice and you won't stop, Jen," Evan Drake remarked coldly, a humourless smile on her face as she regarded the stormy figure in front of her.

Before Jenny could lunge herself at the tall ballerina, Nick Mitchell immediately intervened. "Cut it out, Evey. And you need to cool it, Jen. In case you've forgotten, it's _our _auditorium too," he held his hands out on each side, in case he needed to ward off either girl.

"This is flat out, pure, unadulterated WHACK. Who the hell would've done this anyway? It's totally out of the blue!" a senior with spiky blond hair burst out with from his seat, his navy blue eyes flashing.

"Out of the blue?" Cary Yeung snorted, a look of disbelief crossing her Irish-Japanese features. The said boy looked over his shoulder and to the girl with an exaggerated arch of his eyebrow. "People _hate _you, Tristan. A lot. Who's to say your dumbass horsing around didn't set some loose cannons off?" she continued, her long legs straightened out in front of her as she leaned casually back in her seat.

Tristan glowered at her before turning to snipe at Michael Jones who was busy dipping his head low, shoulders shaking as he stifled his chuckles from beside Cary.

"Okay, you know what? All I have to say is: fuck you and you have a... small dick," Jenny reclaimed the conversation once more, directing the jab at the silent attorney at the front.

"How do you know how big my dick is?" he frowned, his voice finally being heard amongst the whole hullabaloo.

"OH MY GOD. Jenny, it's getting late. And you have a lot of make-up to remove. Maybe you should leave and we'll resolve this without your constant bitching on our backs," Andrea Cohen placed her hands on her hips, approaching the small girl casually as if the language of 'insults' were her native tongue.

"Woman, we are a team. You've got to stop grabbing the reigns and bossin' people around as if you own them," Nick sighed, turning his attention to his girlfriend.

Andrea drew back, her mouth agape wordlessly as she stared at Nick in disbelief. "You did _not _just say that to my _face_. First of all, I hate it when you call me 'woman'. Secondly, why do you always have to be so politically correct? Who employed you as the team's 'peacekeeper' anyway?" she growled, waving her hand dangerously close to Nick's face, almost smacking him.

"There go Ike and Tina again," Oz Corasani sang under his breath, pushing his shades further up his nose as he rested his combat boots-clad feet on the seat in front of him.

"ENOUGH!"

The arguments coming left and right died down when Jesse slowly rose from his seat, his single exclamation still hanging in the air. He stood up to his full height and moved to the front of the room, watching his team stay at a standstill as they awaited his spiel.

"Look around you. Do you really think tearing each other's throats out is going to resolve what's happened here?" he gestured to the thoroughly trashed auditorium of theirs. The instruments were ruined, most of the costumes were torn, the lights were smashed... the whole works. To add insult to injury, toilet paper, garbage and glass were littered and strewn about the huge hall. According to the police, it was the act of rogue miscreants and that they would look into it. But, so far the attorney had explained that there was nothing they could do without the evidence they needed.

Hence, the clash of the divas and mivas had ensued.

"I know this adds a glitch in our schedule, but that's what being the best is all about. Employing the belief of the show going on no matter what," he continued steadily, his voice hard and firm as he regarded each and every member staring back at him in that moment.

"We'll just get this cleaned up and we'll be back in business in no time," the roguish team captain clapped his hands together once to accentuate his point with a half-smile.

"Negative," came Shelby Corcoran's voice as she walked into the auditorium, the senior attorney by her side.

Jesse looked over his shoulder and furrowed his brow as the team director approached the confused VA members. He sat himself on the head of a plush seat as Shelby slowed her steps to a stop. He kept quiet, allowing her to continue and explain what their current predicament would be.

"I've just spoken with your principal, Mr. McMahon and Mr. Hoyt, our attorney. It seems that our only option right now would be to rent the Lima Youth Centre for after-school practice every day while this hall is renovated. The only snag would be that a matter of sharing said auditorium with another show choir team will come into order," the older woman spoke crisply, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood in between the two lawyers.

"We're what?" Jesse straightened up in his seat; a look of pure shock and disgust twisted into a snarl upon his handsome face.

Shelby Corcoran didn't flinch.

"Due to our recent misfortune, it's only logical that we'll be holding our rehearsals at there. It's going to be perfect and you're going to love it so much, you won't want to go home. The facilities are excellent and the management responsible for their stage are extremely accommodating," the director paced in front of her students, hands poised upon her hips as she addressed each and every one of them sternly.

"Miss Corcoran, with all due respect... Hold the phone and rewind, girl," Nick Mitchell's voice rose a few pitches towards the end of his sentence, still trying to absorb the information Shelby had sprung upon them.

Their superior arched an eyebrow.

"This isn't a democracy. You'll do what I say, when I say it. And you'll know damn well why too," she spoke her words carefully, an underlying danger hidden beneath her seemingly calm exterior.

"Evan," Shelby looked to the blond seated gracefully in the middle of her teammates.

The girl didn't need to get the message twice. "Because we're the best. And being the best means having the discipline to follow orders from a superior who has been majorly responsible in steering us that way," she answered evenly, a well-rehearsed response everyone on the team has spewed out at least once in their high school lives as a VA member.

"Exactly," Shelby snapped her fingers in approval before turning her attention to her captain.

Jesse set his jaw, not wanting to let any words said in the heat of the moment slip out as his brow was set in a deep frown.

"What do you have to say, Jesse?"

There was a brief silence before he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Who are these people, anyway?"

Shelby pressed her lips together with a slight nod of her head as she answered to the entire team.

"McKinley High's New Directions."

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**Author's Note: **_The next chapter will feature the first VA-ND meeting, I reckon? We shall see!_

_Before you press that button to review (which I am sincerely hoping you do. I enjoy feedback. Because when I don't... it's like I'm talking and rambling and spewing out all these illustrations to a wall. And then I start to feel like I'm talking to myself. And then I start to question my sanity. And then I start to sink into my chair and writhe in distraught over my compromising mental state until I'm unable to function as a human being and odd things begin to breed around me and... well, you get the picture)... I'd like to share with all you wonderful people some future St. Berry stories I have in mind and would genuinely like to know what you think about them._

_**When Rachel Met Jesse:**__ I will obviously be continuing this, do not fret._

_**LoveStrange:**__ A dark story centred about the sexual evolution of Rachel and Jesse's secret relationship. Will be set in a future AU. It will be rated M as it is to be filled with twisted themes, strong language, our questionable society and sexual scenes/situations. The story will be written around the theme of 'The Seven Deadly Sins'._

_**Centre of Attention:**__ Unseen St. Berry moments in Season 1 of Glee._

_**Don't Let Me Let You Go:**__ Okay, I know that this has been done to death, but I feel like I have some ideas for a St. Berry-esque Season 2 of Glee that hasn't been seen before. So, I'll try my hand at it._

_**His Limitless Star:**__ Rachel Berry goes to spend her summer on her grandfather's vineyard in California. Who else just happens to be there? You guessed it. A St. Berry summer romance like you've never read before. _

_So, check back in and get me on your Author Alerts list for constant updates on what I may be up to in the future. I aim to please. Until next time, lovelies!_


	2. See If I Care

**Author's Note:** _My heart overflows with love and fuzziness whenever I read your incredible reviews. Mental sanity? Still intact (though, just barely... but what the hey!)_

_I'd just like to address to any of those who may have missed the disclaimer in the first chapter (which is cool... I mean, I rarely tend to read those... especially when it's me prattling on about nonsense when all you should be doing is enjoying the story, haha)... there will be no Shelby-Rachel baby mama drama in this story. Hence, Shelby isn't Rachel's mother in this._

_So, basically this chapter is a little continuation/companion to the event that had taken place in the first chapter. _

_READ, ENJOY and REVIEW, my darlings._

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"NO! MY SHOES!" trilled Santana when the grape slushee made contact with her pearly white trainers. Standing right beside her, Rachel remained unaffected by her accidental action as she continued to absorb what Mr. Schue had just said.

"Come... again?" the brunette struggled to control her voice as she continued to grip her now empty slushee cup.

"_Voy a cortar!_" the Latina growled, preparing to lunge herself towards the Berry offspring only to be held back by Puck and Matt.

Oblivious to the small commotion she had started, Rachel continued to stare, dumbstruck at Mr. Schue with her wide doe eyes.

"I'm sorry, guys. But, Miss Sylvester has gone far too far this time. Locking up the auditorium? Holding Cheerios practice in the same vicinity as our own practices? We all know high flight jumping doesn't fare well in _here_," Will shook his head in exasperation, resting his hands on top of the piano.

"Then how are we supposed to win anything if you terminate practices on campus?" Mercedes frowned, completely befuddled by the team director. Wasn't he intensely adamant in ensuring the continuance of their glee club? And now, here he was, digging 'New Directions'' own grave.

"Yes, I said I would terminate on-campus practices..." their teacher began, though he was interrupted by one Rachel Berry, overwrought with despair.

"You always do this, Mr. Schue! You _never_ consult us before making life-altering decisions such as this! It's preposterous!" she exclaimed, her voice booming with emotion from beside a now-tamed Santana who was busy glaring daggers at the young ingénue.

"I saw a 'preposterous' at the zoo once. It was huge," Brittany offered quietly, shifting her gaze to Artie who simply shook his head to stop the blonde from explaining any further.

"Does... this mean we don't have to stay in the club or something?" Mike Chang piped up, his eyebrows screwing together in confusion as he looked over to the rest of the members.

"Oh, thank the Lord," Quinn drawled breathlessly, pressing her palms together as she lifted her gaze to the ceiling.

"B-b-but I thought we were finally fitting in around here..." came a meek voice as Tina chose to make her point of view known to the room.

"In which part of the universe did you think _that?_" the head Cheerio ended her little prayer with a sharp snap of her attention towards the other girl.

"Let me finish!" Will interjected, his voice coming out a little more forcefully than he had originally intended. Rendering them all speechless, he cleared his throat and sighed deeply.

"I know I said I would terminate _on-campus _practices. Which means; we'll be moving our rehearsals to the Lima Youth Centre. The facilities there are really good. They've got great space, lighting, the works. And best of all, Miss Sylvester's reign of power doesn't extend to the management there... it'll give us the freedom we need to perfect our numbers," he explained diplomatically, earning a round of quiet murmurs signalling their understanding as well as subtle agreement to his words.

"The thing is: we'll just be required to share whatever time we have and work out some negotiations with another glee club who'll be utilizing the auditorium as well. Vocal Adrenaline," the team director had barely enough time to complete his sentence before setting off an uproar inside the relatively small choir room.

"What? _Why?_" Puck yelled over the other blatant expressions of confusion resounding around his teammates. The same thing rang through each and everyone's heads: _Don't those punks have their own auditorium?_

"There was an incident in their school... Guys! Come on, guys, listen to me..." Will moved to the front of the piano, waving his arms in a vain attempt to calm them down (or just shut them up for two seconds so he could further explain their current predicament), but to no avail, their angry chatters overpowered his authority.

"WAIT!" Rachel's high-pitched voice rang clearly, slicing through the haze of incoherent words coming from all directions and successfully toning the noise pollution down a decibel or two. All eyes turned on her. "We're sharing an auditorium... with **Vocal Adrenaline**?" she broke out into a huge grin that may as well have split her face into two while training her brown eyes intently on her teacher.

Will Schuester smiled in her direction, seeing as she seemed to be the only enthusiastic one out of the twelve, so far. "Yes. At the Youth Centre. We'll have to work out the scheduling, but we'll be ending up there together more often than not. Carmel High lets out at the same time as McKinley and..." he was interrupted unceremoniously by another round of obvious disagreements from the rest of the glee club.

"This is bull, Mr. Schue! Those guys are only gonna sabotage our chances at Sectionals!" Finn roared, rising to his feet as to be properly heard by the curly-haired mentor.

"I hear they hold rituals every night before they go home. Smoke, mirrors, blood, the whole sha-bang," Kurt whispered conspirationally, his hand subconsciously resting against his throat in revoltion.

Catching the look of desperation on Mr. Schue's face, the brunette ingénue sprang to her feet and flitted to the front of the room. Clapping her hands quickly, she managed to catch their (begrudging) attention.

"You guys! Ms. Sylvester is never going to let us practice in peace while we're within her domain, (which is the school). And we have absolutely no time to battle her every attack because if we want to be the best, we have to focus on what's important. So what if it's Vocal Adrenaline? Maybe we'll end up making friends with them! Right?"

Rachel's brief sermon did nothing to ease her (supposed) friends into the idea of sharing a room with the evil empire of the show choir circuit. The only reaction she had gotten in return was a series of groans and pleadings for her to 'just-stop-talking' (Kurt).

Will decided to help her out and went to stand beside her. "I'm glad you feel that way, Rachel. Because we'll be meeting with V.A. after school today in the auditorium. Their team director, Miss Corcoran, and I feel that it's important that we maintain a level of harmony within the youth centre in order for both teams to work in a conducive and stable environment..."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and leaned over to Kurt. "Never trust a man when he starts shootin' out those fancy-schmancy words," she uttered in a quiet voice.

The effeminate adolescent scoffed before turning over in her direction as well. "As if we weren't doomed to the fiery pits of antisocial hell enough... he goes and throws us into the lion's den."

"I'd say... step on our heads while we're drowning, Mr. Schue," Artie offered lamely, keeping his voice hushed so that only Kurt and Mercedes would have heard him.

"... Look, guys. This doesn't thrill me either. But sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do. You'll all realize that one day, I promise you," their said teacher pressed his lips together as he watched them all quiet down, defeated. The only figure still beaming in excitement was Rachel Berry.

Oh, how things were about to do a 180.

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"Rachel, stop it," Finn mumbled as he twiddled with the zipper of his letterman jacket.

The brunette furrowed her brow, stopping in her tracks. "Stop what?"

"Walking around and talking to yourself, smiling like everything's okay," the taller boy answered exasperatedly, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief at her attitude over the entire situation.

"Finn, everything _is _okay. You have to stay positive. Vocal Adrenaline's a great team, we could pick up a lot of pointers from them..." _and have them kick themselves in the kisser for realizing how much better __**I**__ am than Vocal Adrenaline __combined__. _

Well... Rachel added that last part as an afterthought, of course.

Finn had exited the auditorium currently holding 'New Directions' who were impatiently waiting for the Carmel High glee club to arrive so they could start the meeting. He had decided to follow Rachel out into the hallway, seeing as she kept her eye on the door to keep checking for their arrival.

"I've just got a _bad_ feeling about them, Rachel," he accentuated each of his words carefully, as if speaking about some urban legend long forgotten by the citizens of today's ignorant world.

His counterpart smiled.

"Oh, _Finn,_" was all she had to say.

_Finn, you silly, wonderful boy. You're exactly like Freddy Eynsford-Hill. Beautiful, but so dense and clueless. And I would be Eliza! Well... if you would obsess about me a little. And wait outside my house on occasion. And maybe not avoid me when I just happen to show up in between your classes..._

Rachel frowned once more. She decided to negate in pursuing her thoughts any further. Partly because it would probably only cause her to cry herself to sleep in the comfort of her own room. But, also because she had stopped in her tracks due to the group of people walking through the entrance of McKinley High, clad in uniform black hoodies emblazoned with the words 'CARMEL HIGH' on the front.

Showtime.

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*_Voy a Cortar! - I will cut you!_

**Author's Note:** _Do you hate me? You hate me, don't you? Oh my God, you do!_

_In my defence: This is just some hype building for the destined meeting between VA and ND. Also, this is like the VA-ND meeting- part one (the very nanosecond JsJ and the crew step onto McKinley High turf *cue 'Jets vs. Sharks' music*)._

_So, get excited. _

_Jesse St. James and Rachel Berry are about to meet and rock each other's world..._

_... in the next chapter. (For real this time, I promise) _


	3. Knock Me Down

**Author's Note:** _Greetings, all! Thanks for the feedback; they are safely stored in a special place within my being. (WOW. That was a deep choice of words there)._

_Conona; Well, I used an English to Spanish Google translator for the Santana outburst (considering my Spanish is a little limited, haha). I can imagine the errors that would come from using it. Thanks for pointing it out, though! Will keep that in mind the next time I have Santana or Oz threaten to tear someone a new one in the language of love. _

_So, this chapter is the first VA-ND meeting. Everyone's still on edge, testing out the waters. There is some foreshadowing of future relationships, be it friendships or something more. Hence, they're still feeling out their way around each other. The fire is still a crackling ember. The explosions will come in the next few chapters; you needn't worry, my pretties. _

_I thought it would be funny to have a Mike from New Directions and a Michael (a.k.a. Mike) from Vocal Adrenaline. I can imagine the both of them going "Huh?" each time someone calls their name._

_And also, just a fun fact: I derive a lot of Jenny Sweet's character from Will and Grace's Karen Walker (who is, by the way, a gem that only Megan Mullally can ever pull off)._

_In conclusion: READ, __**ENJOY**__ and REVIEW._

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The atmosphere in the room was tense.

A cough echoed within the hallowed hall as Vocal Adrenaline and New Directions sat opposing each other.

Shelby and Will had left them to get acquainted while they discussed the negotiations in his office. Only when they had come to an agreement regarding the rules and regulations would they bring forth the guidelines for each respective team to familiarize with.

The second they left the said auditorium was the second each team fell to an uncharacteristic silence. They regarded each other carefully, never allowing a single word to leave their lips.

"Thanks a lot!" a dark-haired girl waltzed into the auditorium, shattering the ice-cold quiet that hung over the students. Drawing everyone's attention, they noted that she was dressed in a black Carmel High hoodie and a plaid skirt with two large boxes in each hand.

"A girl can't even catch a break around here... First, her parents force her to bring their junk to the recycling centre, then she has to break her friggin' heels on the way here, _plus_, her so-called friends don't even bother to help her carry her aforementioned parents' junk!" her whining was interrupted when a tall, wavy-haired boy and a shorter, tanned Vocal Adrenaline member got up to each take a box from her arms.

"Jen, why didn't you just leave it in your car?" the taller one questioned casually as his eyes strayed towards the New Directions' members who seemed to chatter amongst themselves as they glanced over from time to time.

"Jesse... I don't trust the hired help with rich people garbage," she rolled her eyes while limping along towards the seats, following the two boys from behind.

"Right. Who knows where your driver might speed off to with boxes of crap in the backseat?" the other boy smirked as he shook his head, bemused.

"Shut up, Oz. Oh, fuck. I forgot to mail this..." Jenny pulled out a letter from her Gucci original as she stopped in her tracks. Glancing to the side, she had paused directly next to the seated McKinley High Schoolers. Catching sight of the first pair of eyes that looked her way, she held out the letter to the feminine looking boy.

"Honey, would you pop a stamp on this and drop it in the mail for me?" she spoke casually, looking down on the young boy as he stared up at her coldly, unmoving.

No one spoke.

Jesse buried his face in his palm, shaking his head.

Mercedes stared at Jenny, her mouth agape.

Oz let out a stifled snicker.

Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it.

Kurt and Jenny simply continued to stare at each other, with him peering beadily at her and her watching him expectantly.

This probably went on for about five seconds until she retracted the letter from the front of his face and to the inside of her bag. She eyed him up and down before murmuring, "I like you," and turning her heel to be on her merry way back to the Vocal Adrenaline seats.

The silence that had surrounded both teams began to slowly dissipate as everyone started to quietly murmur to each other.

Rachel had been watching the tall, wavy haired boy since the moment he had walked in. She recognized him from YouTube uploads of Vocal Adrenaline's performances. He was Jesse St. James, captain of the celebrated show choir team. Seeing him now, he seemed a lot more normal in person. She had half-expected him to bark out militant orders for his subordinates to fall in line or something. Yet, so far, he seemed awfully quiet. She feared he even seemed like he didn't want to be there at all.

"I'm going to go over there..." she whispered to Finn who was seated in front of her.

"What? No way. They're in _our _school. They should be the ones making the effort to be friendly," he argued in a hushed voice, turning his body towards her.

"Finn, we have to be good hosts. Good hosts always make their guests feel comfortable," she responded stubbornly, rising to her feet only to be pulled back down in her seat by Tina who sat beside her.

On the other side of the room, Jesse had been watching the brunette argue with her teammates as they seemed to be fighting to keep her in her seat. He had noticed her the moment he and his teammates made their way through the McKinley High hallway. He watched her skip slightly in her position before hurrying into the auditorium (probably to alert the rest about VA's arrival). The venomous glare sent his way by the tall, burly boy with her was not left unnoticed either.

"I should probably introduce us all to them," he murmured, catching the attention of one floppy-haired Michael Jones.

"Seems like a tight-knit group. I've got a feeling they've already decided what they think of us," the said VA member crossed his arms over his chest, moving to stand beside the captain.

They watched someone with a Mohawk attempt to sidle up next to a Latina cheerleader only to be refused with a disgusted eye-roll and a quick smack upside his head.

"_Muy caliente_," Michael scratched the side of his face absent-mindedly with a half smile playing on the edge of his lips. The goatee he had been growing was a little itchy to say the least, but he definitely looked better with it. _"Holy shit, you look like a young Robin Thicke," _were one of the many remarks he had received due to his new look. So, he embraced it with open arms.

Back on the New Directions' side, Rachel wrestled her way out of Tina's vice-like grip with a strained, little growl. "The window of opportunity is growing smaller by the second. If you two want to be childish about this, then _fine_! I think it's fairly prudent that the captain at least meet the other captain's acquaintance for a start," she nagged, brushing her skirt brashly seeing as the struggle had made the clothing article ride up a little too high. Tina simply sighed in defeat with Finn screwing his eyebrows together, confused over what Rachel had just prattled on about.

She looked over to Vocal Adrenaline and noticed Jesse St. James watching her. His arms fell to his sides as he seemed to begin descending the steps that connected the upper level of seats to the central seating area. Her heart skipped a beat.

Whoa. Where did that come from?

Alright, sure... he was cute and all. But, she had absolutely no time to humour her girlish giddiness right now. Especially when that same girlish giddiness (over Finn) hadn't completely run its course yet.

_This_ would be completely professional.

"Alright, guys! Take your seats," Will grinned as he walked into the auditorium along with Shelby, clapping his hands together.

Jesse and Rachel halted their respective steps as they turned to see the two authority figures move to the front and centre of the hall.

"Come on, come on, come on... Jesse, Mike, Oz, everyone! Plant those butts back into your seats right now. We don't have all day," Shelby barked (for a while there, Mike Chang had instinctively perked up at the sound of his name, only to realize that she was addressing a shaggy-haired brunette on the other side of the room. Damn the commonness of the name 'Michael'. Damn it to heck), brushing past Will who pursed his lips disapprovingly to how she simply ordered her students around without a second thought.

Stealing one last glance to the VA captain, Rachel too turned and headed back to her seat with ND.

"Okay, now... sit down, shut up and listen," Miss Corcoran began firmly, crossing her arms over her chest before she was interrupted by Will's exaggerated cough. Looking over her shoulder, she caught his polite smile and returned it with her own. "Sit down, shut up and listen _to Mr. Schuester, everyone_," she rephrased carefully before nodding to her colleague.

"Thanks, Shelby. The first order of business is the timing of rehearsals. Both McKinley and Carmel let out at the same time and the Lima Youth Centre closes at 8 p.m. on weekdays, 10 p.m. on weekends. Now, it's understandable that _both _New Directions and Vocal Adrenaline will require ample time for practice. So, Miss Corcoran and I have agreed that in order to utilize each second we have in the auditorium, we'll need to be there together at the same time..." Will explained lengthily, the smile on his face never wavering.

"Wait... so, we have to practice at the same time? That's insane! And what about the music? They'll totally clash!" a girl with blond hair rudely interrupted the explanation as she sat upright in her chair.

"Ten laps when we get back to Carmel, Evan," Shelby responded before Will could, her lips set in a thin line. Crossing her arms angrily, the girl knew better than to argue with her superior. And her superior did _not _tolerate behaviour that included chiming in when the adults were talking.

"It's okay, Shelby," Will cleared his throat once more (you'd think the guy had freakin' Bronchitis in the VA team director's presence or something). "Your teacher and I have figured out a scheduling plan that works best for both parties," he then addressed Evan who simply glowered at him in return.

Will went on to explain that VA and ND would take turns using the stage at intervals. For example, the first hour would have VA rehearsing onstage while ND practiced their routines and vocal warm-ups in the gym right across the hall. After the first hour, they would switch. Then, alternate throughout the day with fifteen-minute breaks in the middle.

As Will was doing so, Puck nudged Mike Chang as he nodded over to a fuming Evan Drake across the room. "What crawled up _her _ass?" he sniggered humourlessly, already getting annoyed by the entire Vocal Adrenaline crew. Plus, the way some asshole with a goatee was looking at Santana began to really piss him off.

"What about the set lists? They'd know exactly what and how we'll be performing for Sectionals. Doesn't that put us in a vulnerable position?" Artie raised his hand, catching Mr. Schuester's attention before he glanced over to VA, whom chuckled collectively at his concern. He frowned at their reaction, looking over to his own teammates and back to the opposing group.

"_That _is something you won't have to worry about," a pretty girl wearing a little too much smoky eyeliner smiled widely over to Artie, trying hard not to start laughing again. _As if they weren't __vulnerable__ enough before._

"Cary," Shelby spoke in a warning tone, hoping that none of her students would start flat out insulting the other kids. That would just be in poor taste, really.

"Well, they don't," the girl mumbled softly, biting her thumbnail as she leaned back in her seat.

"The authorities handling the show choir circuit have been notified of our arrangement. Any slander, misdemeanour or suspicious behaviour during the competition will result in both teams being disqualified without further investigation," Will answered the question that was, to be honest, on everyone's mind at the moment.

"This is a huge responsibility, guys. We're talking about punctuality, honour, diligence, the whole nine yards... all amplified to another level," Shelby moved to stand directly beside Will as she looked to both teams before her.

"Let's at least try this out, everyone. We'll start on Monday, alright?"

Taking their incoherent murmurs as an agreement, the dark-haired team director gave a tight-lipped smile to VA as she announced that they were free to disperse back to their vehicles. Will took her cue and mentioned that the same went for ND.

As everyone stood up, Rachel was still unsatisfied with how much she hadn't achieved in today's meeting. She hadn't spoken to any members of the other team, she sort of had some unanswered questions to ask Mr. Schuester about, and she hadn't even introduced herself as the rightful team captain...

While these thoughts continued to whirr through her mind, the brunette failed to realize that there was an obstruction in her path (Matt's backpack on the floor). At that, she tripped with a loud yelp as her hands flung out to grab whatever it was that could cushion her fall. She manoeuvred her way onto another chair, dropping unceremoniously and harshly onto the seat. It was a wonder the impact hadn't even made a creak whatsoever. Rachel, however, was sprawled stomach-down across two or three seats.

How graceful.

"Man, those things have got some strong legs," a Vocal Adrenaline member remarked on the sturdiness of the chairs as the entire group shuffled past her.

"The seats too."

Gasping, Rachel snapped her head in the direction of the smouldering voice that had unabashedly given an indirect comment on her legs. She caught sight of wavy bronze hair as the figure belonging to the said voice passed by. Scrambling to her feet, she noticed that her skirt had rode up yet again (dangerously close to flashing her underwear too). Blushing furiously, she watched as Jesse St. James looked over his shoulder to her once more, smirking at the crimson red of her face.

How _dare _he?

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Foreshadowing, foreshadowing, foreshadowing! I love it._

_What are your predictions for the upcoming chapters based on what you've just read? _

_Can you put an actor/actresses' face to the Vocal Adrenaline members stated (seeing as they're original characters)?_

_State it all in your feedback! _

_Until next time, beautiful people!_


	4. Real Tough Cookie

**Author's Note: **_It's the first day of rehearsals for VA-ND. This chapter focuses on the beginning of the day, basically. You will get some deeper insight on the Vocal Adrenaline members and how they will relate to the New Directions performers._

_I would also just like to give a big thank you to all the reviewers. I'd just like to tell you that each and every one of your comments are taken into consideration quite seriously. I try to please as large a majority as I can, but ultimately: I make the choices that I feel work best for the story._

_Now that there has been an introduction to the basis of the story in the first three chapters, I feel confident in delving into all the characters and their relationships with more in-detail descriptions._

_And if you'd like to know which actors or actresses I had in mind for the original characters, I'll inform you little by little (depending on who's being featured in the chapter). For this chapter, the actors I had in mind for the VA members are:_

_Nick Mitchell: Nick Cannon - http:/www__**(dot)**__laughstub__**(dot)**__com/images/comedians/Nick-Cannon-2__**(dot)**__jpg_

_Jenny Sweet: Mia Kirshner - http:/blogs__**(dot)**__pioneerlocal__**(dot)**__com/entertainment/jenny-lword__**(dot)**__jpg_

_Just copy and paste the links into your address bar and replace the __**(dot) **__with a period, which is '.'_

_Tell me what you think, everyone!_

_READ, ENJOY and REVIEW._

_

* * *

_

Pulling open one of the lockers provided by the Lima Youth Centre, Jesse peeled off his leather jacket to reveal a plain black T-shirt inside. Placing the said clothing article in the locker, he slammed it closed just as Nick finished his rant of the day.

"Look, why do you put up with her if all you ever do is fight?" the team captain mumbled, configuring the combination to his lock as his comrade leaned against the locker beside his.

"Man, you wouldn't understand. The longest relationship you've had is with your goddamn piano, Yanni," came Nick's amused reply as he shot his friend a weary look. Smirking, Jesse let out a dry chuckle whilst shaking his head as the African-American VA performer continued on. "She's a pain in the ass most of the time. But, I love her," he shrugged in nonchalance before fixing his gaze straight ahead.

Jesse responded by rolling his eyes and uttering, "See, that's where you and I differ. You think it's okay to suffer through a relationship for an extended period of time. But, what's the point? What's wrong with enjoying each other for what it's worth without investing too much to risk it all?"

Snickering, it was obvious that Nick had heard this spiel plenty of times before. "Bla bla bla... That, my friend, is what we in the real world call a cop-out speech," he argued with a smug smile on his face. Raising his hands up in mock surrender, the VA lead replied with, "Just using my head."

"Yeah, well at least you're using it for something," Nick mumbled in irritation, allowing his eyes to watch the rest of VA stuff their things in the rented lockers. Hearing Jesse grunt in unsatisfactory confusion from beside him, he added "Andrea's my woman. I wouldn't have it any other way..." pausing, the Mitchell offspring nudged his best friend harshly before exaggerating a relaxed position against the lockers. "... Ssshhh! Here she comes," he muttered, his eyes landing coolly on the figure storming over to him.

The slightly shorter girl stopped before him, placing her hands on her hips purposefully. Her mocha skin was tinged slightly with a faint blush from the effort in repressing anger directed to her boyfriend. "Why haven't you been answering my calls?" she asked in an uncharacteristically calm voice, though her almond-shaped eyes flashed something different entirely.

"Woman, I told you I needed some space..." Nick groaned, obviously getting shit about 'communication' from Andrea on a daily basis.

"HOW many times have I asked you _not _to call me 'woman', Nick? HOW many?" Andrea interjected, her voice escalating about a dozen or so pitches as she totally lost whatever composure she had successfully maintained before this.

Exhaling deeply, her other half straightened up a little before looking down upon her carefully. "Excuse me, Miss Cohen," he began, only to be interrupted with a sweet 'thank you' from his girlfriend before he was allowed to continue. "Okay, street slang is an increasingly valid form of expression. Most of the feminine pronouns do have mocking, but not necessarily misogynistic undertones," ending his explanation with a knowing smile, Andrea opened her mouth to retort but closed it again with a huff.

"He's got a point," Jesse piped up helpfully from beside his friend, arms crossed casually over his solid chest.

"Jesse," she sighed impatiently, sending a venomous glare in his direction.

"Leaving," he curtly took that as his cue and pushed himself lazily off the row of lockers with one foot to make his way over elsewhere.

Rehearsals would only begin in twenty minutes or so, which explained why all twenty Vocal Adrenaline members continued to linger in the hallways to chat up a storm before their drill. They had almost forgotten that they'd be running into New Directions more often than not for the rest of the day (and year).

After a few minutes had gone by, the McKinley High show choir students shuffled through the doorways one by one. A majority of the team were relieved to not draw any attention, seeing as VA continued to talk amongst themselves. A minority, however, had their egos bruised.

Lifting his chin slightly, Kurt Hummel made his way through the crowd while gripping the strap of his satchel a little nervously. He spotted an empty locker up ahead and wanted nothing more than to just reach it, put his things down, rehearse and stay as far away from VA as possible.

However, the forceful push against his shoulder and "Watch it, doughnut," (doughnut?) when someone brushed by him indicated that his agenda would not go as planned. He caught sight of long dark hair billowing behind a tiny figure as it wove its way through the hall.

"_Excuse me_," he called out, not holding back any attitude in his (admittedly) feminine voice. Stopping in her tracks, the girl turned around and his eyes narrowed even more. It was the girl from the other day; the one who had ordered him to mail a letter; the one they called... Jenny.

"What?" she snapped, lifting an eyebrow challengingly as she flipped her thick bangs out of her icy blue eyes.

Kurt approached the girl, enjoying the fact that he was still taller than her. Hence, he had a naturally acquired power dynamic in this confrontation. Though, Jenny still stood her ground, even if she had to lift her chin up higher to meet his angry gaze.

"Why don't _you _watch it, doughnut?" he hissed, throwing back the insult in her face (at the same time, not really understanding why the word was all that offensive in the first place).

Her ruby mouth dropped open as she gawked in return. "Do you have any idea who I am, Hummel?" she growled haughtily, balling her hands into fists as they tensed at her sides.

Temporarily disarmed by the fact that she knew his name, Kurt immediately recovered and shot back, "Someone with bad behaviour, that's for sure!"

Pressing her lips together in a thin line, Jenny shut her eyes and exhaled through her nostrils in an attempt to gather her bearings. Opening them again, she gave him a sarcastic smile. "I'm _fabulous_, okay? I'm an incredible dresser, I've got oodles of money, and I've got a killer rack. Do you get what I'm saying?" she grabbed her sizable breasts coolly to enforce her point, as if everything she had just said was explanation enough.

He stared down at the girl in horror as it was his turn to be completely dumbstruck with whatever came out of her mouth.

From a distance, Rachel watched the whole scene unfold and continue with both Kurt and Jenny hurling insults at each other. It was still considered tame as everyone else seemed to ignore whatever was going on between the two divas at the moment.

Deciding to turn her attention onto something else, she noticed a short, rotund boy with a jewfro stand beside her. Her first thought went to Jacob Ben Israel, her own personal stalker (well, only because of the hair). But, this guy seemed to disregard her completely as he stared intently straight ahead.

"Hi," she broke the silence, catching him by surprise (which was awkward, seeing as he had been _standing directly next to her _all this while).

"Oh, hey," he mumbled, tearing his gaze away from whatever he had been focusing on to look at the brunette.

"Are you in Vocal Adrenaline?"

The question had apparently amused him as he laughed loudly in response. Rachel blinked while her polite smile froze on her face. She didn't really know whether or not to drop it just yet.

Sighing wistfully, he looked back over to her with a smile. "Well, I'm more of intel for the team..." he began casually before a tall, muscular blond walked past him and Rachel with a simple, "He's not in Vocal Adrenaline."

There was a momentary silence as Rachel offered him a sympathetic look to which he returned with an exasperated scowl.

"I'm Aaron," he stuck his hand out lamely for her to shake. The young ingénue received it enthusiastically.

"Rachel Berry, McKinley High's New Directions," her smile grew brighter as it always did whenever she introduced herself to someone for the first time. Hey, it was important to have a name and introduction that stuck in people's minds for years to come. She liked to think that it would give them a story to tell. A story that preferably started with: _'Y'know Rachel Berry? The Tony Award Winning actress listed as one of Barbara Walters' most fascinating people? I knew her!'_

"Sweet. It must be totally awesome to start rehearsing with Jesse St. James, huh?"

_That _was random...

"Um... We're not actually rehearsing _together_. So, it's no big deal."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

His sudden outburst was entirely out of the blue, which caused her to jump a little at the excessive passion. She was about to reason with him, but Aaron had already started on his justification.

"It's Jesse St. James! He's had washboard abs since he was a friggin' foetus... And have you ever stared into his eyes? I felt like I was being reborn again," his voice grew softer as Rachel followed his line of vision to (sure enough) the VA captain. He was busy crouching down to tie his shoelaces, completely oblivious to the attention he was getting.

As the captain of 'New Directions', she should have laughed it off, dubbing this kid as a psychopath. But, she couldn't because lo and behold, the girl was actually taking everything Aaron had spewed out into consideration. She bit her bottom lip as both her and Aaron leaned against the row of lockers to watch Jesse move.

Shut up. She knew she was pathetic.

The doors flew open as Shelby Corcoran walked brusquely by everyone, clapping her hands together to capture their attention.

"People, people, people! Auditorium! Now!" she barked, never breaking her stride as Vocal Adrenaline followed with no further questions asked.

Will appeared shortly after with his briefcase in tow, hurrying past his students (who weren't entirely sure which team would get to use the stage first). "You too, guys! Come on!" he called over his shoulder, triggering a ripple response as New Directions too made their way quickly into the auditorium after their teacher.

Apparently, both the respective superiors had wanted there to be somewhat of an ice-breaking session before they proceeded with non-stop rehearsals. Just to keep the positive energy pumping (Will's idea, of course).

So, when the VA team director had voiced the simplest question there was for a singer, Rachel took that as an opportunity to make up for her lack of shining in the spotlight from the previous VA-ND gathering. Her hand shot up automatically and she felt her ego jump a couple of notches when Will seemed pleased that one of his kids had stepped up to the plate first.

She wouldn't mess this up.

"I think singing takes heart and a certain innate originality very few people possess," Rachel spoke eloquently amongst the two rival show choir teams, knowing full well that public speaking was her niche.

She knew she had them. All she needed to do now was reel it in and leave their skulls blown wide open due to her maturity and knowledge in the field. Opening her mouth, she was careful to choose her words wisely...

"Oh, please," came a sardonic voice from the middle of the seated Vocal Adrenaline crowd.

The brunette narrowed her eyes and turned to look at whoever dared interrupt the intro of her speech. She saw him. Jesse St. James. Tall, wavy brown hair, piercing hazel eyes and wearing a smirk that was both sexy and annoying as hell (in that very moment).

"Singing comes from pure talent, discipline, and the guts to do whatever it takes to be the best," he drawled easily as he leaned into his seat with what seemed to be a sense of entitlement in being there.

His gaze flickered to her before it went back to Shelby, whom had asked the question of "what is singing to you?", directing the said query to the entire room.

Well, she sure as hell hadn't expected the respective team captains to suddenly ram horns in the midst of their first meeting together.

"She..." Jesse smiled coolly to the now-furious Berry offspring (the very same he referred to as 'she'). "... probably thinks that singing Taylor Swift's 'Fifteen' is a rite of passage into the world of competitive music," he maintained that infuriatingly calm exterior of his as the rest of Vocal Adrenaline sniggered in amusement.

Her jaw dropped.

Alright, she tolerated the first time he decided to throw a jab at her in her moment of embarrassment (well, because she was partly flattered that he was checking out her legs).

But, this second time? He had just flat out stole her thunder in her moment of GLORY, all the while making her look like an idiot in front of every-freakin'-body.

He obviously had _no idea_ who he was messing with.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh, snap daddy-o! So, now it begins. *cue war music worthy of a Sue Sylvester meltdown*


	5. Breaking Little Hearts

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kiss' 'I Was Made For Lovin You' or Barbra Streisand's 'Woman In Love'

**Author's Note: **Apologies for the delay in updates! I've explained in 'Lovestrange' =)

Actors for VA members :

Evan Drake – Sara Foster

Tristan Caine – Corey Sevier

Michael Jones – a young Robin Thicke (see 'Brand New Jones' music video)

Oz Corasani – Luke Grimes

Cary Yeung – Kristin Kreuk

Response to Reviews:

Original Grofette; Yes, the quote's from Clueless. I absolutely love that movie and Alicia Silverstone was positively gold in it. I totally forgot to mention that in my disclaimer! Sorry, guys =)

moirethe; Shelby isn't Rachel's mom is this. I didn't want this story to be overloaded with heavy drama like that. I mean for 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' to be light, comical, and just good-old teenage fun.

Orthographer; Thanks for your review! Though, I'd like to address some points you've put across.

I like to put in some description when writing out a situation. Don't get me wrong, I looked over the lines you pointed out. But, seeing as there were no headache-worthy grammatical errors or such, I still like the way it turned out. And I described Andrea's skin as mocha because... well, because her skin is mocha in colour. It's a legitimately fair use of the word.

I apologize if you were confused by the switching of POVs. The constant switching is merely my style of writing. I do try to add in a brief introduction before switching POVs. For example, I wrote:

_(quote) He stared down at the girl in horror as it was his turn to be completely dumbstruck with whatever came out of her mouth._

_From a distance, Rachel watched the whole scene unfold and continue with both Kurt and Jenny hurling insults at each other. It was still considered tame as everyone else seemed to ignore whatever was going on between the two divas at the moment._

_Deciding to turn her attention onto something else, she noticed a short, rotund boy with a jewfro stand beside her. Her first thought went to Jacob Ben Israel, her own personal stalker (well, only because of the hair). But, this guy seemed to disregard her completely as he stared intently straight ahead. (end quote)_

It just breaks the monotony of the story, if you know what I mean.

And since you're aware of the omniscient narrator that comes in every once in awhile, I suppose you realize that the person who told the reader to 'shut up' was said omniscient narrator. My take on this narrator is more approachable and down-to-earth, spewing youthful phrases that are more relatable to teenagers than most. That is just my style of story-telling.

But, thank you so much again for putting a lot of thought into your review. I enjoy reading feedback, truly. =)

READ, ENJOY, and REVIEW.

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"Get away from the door, Man-Hands," Quinn mumbled in distaste as her blue eyes focused upon a broken nail. It had been an hour and a half since Vocal Adrenaline took the stage for rehearsals. In that period, New Directions had practiced their solos, warmed up their vocal chords and even managed to discuss their set list in the gym. All in all, it was a relatively successful first hour and a half (had it not been for the whining of their predicament every now and then, courtesy of... well, the entire glee club).

The blond Head Cheerio had ordered Rachel to quit lurking by the auditorium double-doors for the umpteenth time as ND waited in the hallway.

"I don't see why we can't just go in," came the Berry offspring's haughty reply, extracting herself from her position against the door. "Obviously the rest of you can't see an opportunity even if it bit you on the nose," she continued, crossing her arms over her chest while addressing the rest of the team. A series of collective groans and eye-rolling ensued as they went back to their own devices. Quinn simply smirked.

Rachel pursed her lips and turned to the closest person she was standing by. Artie looked up to her a little more than cautiously. "You know what I'm talking about, Artie. We should scope out the competition. Find out what they lack and use it to our advantage," she explained passionately, holding on to the armrests of his wheelchair for good measure.

"Mr. Schue told us to wait for him," he replied hesitantly before wheeling himself out of the brunette's desperate grasp. She threw her head back with an outward groan. "You guys, how are we supposed to win if we don't apply our natural born killer instincts _now_? Don't you smell the blood? I do! I smell the blood and I choose to attack at this very moment!" Rachel looked around the hall frantically, successfully regaining their attention.

"Dude, stop saying 'blood' all the time," Puck intervened in exasperation, leaning casually against a locker.

"Yeah, Rachel. And what happened to you wanting us to be friends with them?" Finn furrowed his brow, genuinely harried by the sophomore's crazy behaviour. It was definitely a little too much to keep up with. To be honest, spending a little more than five minutes within the same room as Rachel Berry was enough to drive a person insane. Or ensure he or she was subjected to excessive migraines for at least three hours.

"How can I be friends with them when their rendition of a classic 'Kiss' song is thumping right through the doors as we speak?" the young ingénue cried woefully as she spun on her heel to march towards said entrance. As the sound of her teammates' objections became nothing more than background noise, Rachel quietly pushed one of the doors open. The first thing she saw were flashing lights as all twenty members of VA moved around the stage in what seemed to be an intricately thought out choreography. She walked quietly in, barely noticeable in the dark hall.

"Berry, you get your oompa-loompa butt back here right now!" Kurt whispered harshly as his head poked through the entrance. She shushed him, waving the boy away as she approached a seat in the back. Her gaze was completely transfixed upon the movements on stage and she barely even realized when the rest of ND shuffled into the auditorium to sit with her. Granted, they too seemed fascinated with what VA was successfully pulling off in that moment...

Getting them to just shut up and listen.

"_**I was made for lovin' you baby,  
You were made for lovin' me;  
And I can't get enough of you baby,  
Can you get enough of me?"**_

They sang the chorus in perfect harmony, moving in sync as each twirl and high-kick worked on cue. With a similar look of determination across each and every one's face, they moved like a well-oiled machine. Almost too machine-like. Though, that didn't deter them from successfully rendering their small audience awe-struck (as how most audiences were usually left).

"And this!" an overwhelmingly officious voice interrupted the performance, causing the instrumentals to fade out. A short man wearing way too much eyeliner to even rival Prince himself strode onto the stage. The students stopped whatever they had been performing. "This, Shelby, is where the pyrotechnics come into play. You get what I'm saying? _I was made _BOOM! _You were made _POW! A little something like that," he spoke quickly, dramatizing his explanation with an added flourish to his hands before they went back to fingering his ascot. And no, that was not a euphemism.

"I like it, Dakota. Anything else you want to add, choreography-wise?" the tall woman responded crisply from her seat in the middle of the auditorium.

"ANDREA!" Dakota's sudden exclamation caused Brittany to drop her gummy bears onto Santana's skirt. The Deputy Head cheerio knew she couldn't cuss her best friend out, but even she was beginning to sense a pattern here.

Onstage, the choreographer continued. "I suggest we all bring some attention to your ass, dear girl, before it gets so big it has its own congressman," he sniped bitingly to the younger girl as she blinked quickly and looked away. As if on cue, everyone's gaze seemed to end up on her rear, which was really as average-sized as they came. Not that that mattered to the once-understudy of the candelabra in 'Beauty and the Beast'.

"Come on, sir, don't talk to her like that," Nick interrupted, frowning in disapproval at Dakota's poor choice of words.

"You're one to even speak right now! You were about half a beat behind back there, Mitchell! You all were!" the man roared, his temper successfully inflamed by his subordinates' incompetency. It was Jesse's turn to interject this time.

"With all due respect, sir: we're all still getting used to the stage and the..." the wavy-haired captain was cut short by Dakota's cry of "Oh, look. The other sister decides to stand up for herself!" whilst brandishing a pudgy hand in Mr. St. James' direction. Jesse narrowed his eyes dangerously, but said nothing in return. Shaking his head, the choreographer merely announced that he would meet them in the gym with Shelby once they were done with their thirty-minute break. With that, the two authority figures disappeared to discuss inconsistencies within the rehearsals.

"Well, that was certainly entertaining, Jesse. Or should I say: Jessica?" Tristan sneered, rubbing his hands together as the entire team began to disperse from their rooted positions. Ignoring the fantastically stupid joke, Jesse turned his attention on to the blond. "You were supposed to catch Marissa during the second chorus. Where the hell were you?" he questioned Tristan seriously, refraining from punching the guy's smug look off his face.

"No idea what you're talking about, lady."

"I kicked your sorry ass once, Caine. Don't make me do it again."

"Yeah? Well, you got lucky that time, jack-off!"

Before the argument could escalate into a full-fledged fist fight, Cary Yeung managed to deviate Tristan's attention by pulling him downwards and off the stage (away from their aggravated team captain). It was a known fact that Jesse and Tristan couldn't stand each other. The latter always thought the former had stolen team captaincy from him since way back when. Though, bear in mind that Tristan was the only one who had this idea seeing as Jesse being captain never came as a surprise to anyone else. The young man was talented, driven, and did whatever it took to ensure VA was the best. Hence, he was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

In the back of the auditorium, Will had managed to catch up to his students. "Hey, guys. Sorry I'm late, but boy, is it easy to get lost in this place," he grinned, failing to notice his team's hesitance in taking the stage. Not after what they'd just witnessed.

"Any takers on some grade 'A' rat poison? Anyone?" Mike smiled cheerfully alongside the rest of ND as they begun to make their way towards the now-empty stage. Will frowned in confusion considering that they were perfectly fine when he had left them in the gym before this. Rachel sidled up beside him.

"Mr. Schue, team morale is dangerously low. We are in need of some damage control," she told him, her voice hard and determined. Nodding, the team director placed his hands on his hips. "Are they afraid of Vocal Adrenaline? Is that it?" he queried softly as to not be heard by the rest of the room. Exhaling deeply, Rachel shut her eyes and answered with a grave nod. "They're afraid of not measuring up to VA's rehearsal. They don't want to be laughed at. Which is why I volunteer to perform... I mean, _rehearse _my solo onstage first. Let me ease everyone into their comfort zone and at the same time, let VA know we've got just as much talent as them," she jerked her head in said rival team's direction. Sure enough, they seemed to be lingering within the auditorium just to see what ND was all about.

"Now, Rachel. This isn't the competition yet. This isn't about scare tactics and what not..." Will calmly replied as he took in the sight of his team while they loitered about the steps leading to the stage. "But go do what you have to do," he clapped an encouraging hand on her shoulder with a smile. Beaming brightly back at him, she took some purposeful and hurried steps towards her second home; the spotlight onstage. While Mr. Schue told the rest to relax and let Rachel do her solo first (to which they responded with agreeable voices of relief), she allowed herself to steady her breathing.

Downstage, Michael Jones immediately shushed the rest of the team when he saw the petite brunette waltz into the spotlight. "Look, look, look... their captain's about to sing," he uttered with a cheeky smile, successfully causing everyone to turn towards the stage. Finishing the rest of his water bottle, Jesse too fixed his gaze upon the lone figure in _his _spotlight. Running his eyes over the girl, he took in the pink chiffon blouse tucked into a sinfully short skirt paired with knee-high (argyle?) socks. A smile formed on his full lips. He had to admit... his spotlight looked pretty damned good on her.

Oh.

He realized just how far astray his thoughts had gone and worked to reel himself back into reality. "She's probably going to sing something by Strawberry Short..." he stopped mid-sentence when the opening notes of 'Woman In Love' by Barbra Streisand began to course throughout the hall. "... cake," he cleared his throat lamely.

Holy shit... Was Jesse St. James just... thrown off-guard?

Rachel awarded herself a secret smile, relishing in the stunned look upon Jesse St. James' face. How she had been waiting for that look since he assumed she was nothing more than a teeny-bopper-worshipping-fan-girl. Vengeance aside, she quickly regained conscious thought and immersed herself into personifying the song.

Her lips parted and her voice emanated through vulnerable lips as her doe eyes managed to pull in what little audience she had. She began safely enough, sticking to the spot under the lone light shining down on her. The song demanded for her heart and soul, so she gave herself fully to the lyrics without missing a beat. As it progressed, the (now) irresistible brunette onstage moved from her deeply rooted position as if she were seasoned upon the stage she was exploring. As if it were a part of her.

Jesse stared at her, refusing to either blink or move even as his teammates started whispering amongst themselves throughout the performance. His features displayed a myriad of expressions, ranging from shock to intrigue to fascination. She was mesmerizing.

The St. James offspring struggled to mask his hitched breath when the song went into a climax where she belted out impossible notes for anyone of their age and experience to even dream of achieving. He crossed his arms over his chest, blatantly ignoring the knowing looks his teammates shot his way. It was obvious they ached to see whether or not he was affected or intimidated by the tiny dynamite onstage.

Once she ended her performance, she could hear ND applaud and cheer her on (one of very few occasions) along with Mr. Schuester's enthusiastic whoops. Her brown eyes strayed towards VA whom began to exit the auditorium slowly, though she couldn't find the one person she wanted to get a reaction out of. In any case, Rachel grinned to her friends and gave a little curtsy before skipping towards them. On her way down the aisle, she received an unexpectedly harsh nudge to her shoulder. "Hey!" she yelped in surprise after catching sight of a flash of blond hair. Turning around, she faced the icy, taller VA member she recognized as Evan Drake (the complainer from the other day).

Rachel inadvertently gulped when Evan stared down upon her like she was something from the bottom of her shoe. "Oops," she uttered coldly whilst backing away towards the rest of her teammates as they continued to exit the hall. "Wouldn't want to trample on those cute, little feet of yours," Evan added with an obviously faux smile before turning to stalk off. The brunette was at a loss for words considering that the girl had practically popped out of nowhere. Though, what came as an even bigger surprise was when Quinn took a couple of steps closer to the sophomore.

"The bitch is intimidated. Trust me," she smiled coolly, her blue eyes alight with amusement. Now, let it be said that trusting Quinn has never actually been within the realm of possibilities for Rachel (especially when she was about to confirm that blonds had a sort of biological hatred towards her). _This_ was definitely a nice kind of 'strange'.

Keeping that in mind, New Directions began part one of rehearsals.

* * *

"Do you mind taking off the shades, Bob Dylan?" Jesse remarked in agitation as he turned his attention on Oz. He leaned further into his seat with a shrug directed to annoy the captain. "Why?" he asked in a mixture of curiosity and nonchalance (how very ironic).

"I can't take you seriously in them," shaking his head, the VA lead realized he was just picking on anyone he saw due to Rachel Berry's performance. It affected him and he had absolutely no idea why. Maybe it was because he had been constantly on her back since the moment they'd laid eyes on each other? Or maybe because he never thought there could be someone to rival his talent (heaven forbid) in the same freakin' town as his.

Not even noticing the fact that Oz took off his shades, Jesse was distracted by the ND crowd as they made their way into the cafeteria. He even paid attention to the details surrounding them; they definitely seemed much, much more dapper than before. Like they didn't give a shit whether or not anyone noticed them (this time)... which was bad for VA... which meant that it was all on him. He drummed his fingers against the table top once before rising to go get some Jell-o.

In the meantime, Michael Jones had caught sight of the girl he'd been setting his sights on (finally alone as she hung in the back of the group). Falling into step beside her, he clasped his hands behind his back with a chipper smile.

"Santana, right?"

"Who's asking?"

"I am."

"I know _that, _moron. I'm asking what _your _name's supposed to be."

"Ooh, someone's a spicy quesadilla."

The Latina cheerleader stopped in her tracks and turned to face him with a carefully restrained smile on her lips. "You just compared me to food. Strike one," she began listing off with her fingers. "You compared me to _stereotypical _food. Strike two," she took in his roving eyes and ignored them for now. "You're not my type. Strike three," with that, her hand connected harshly to the side of his face. "You're out," she added icily before turning on her heel and leaving. Michael's mouth hung slightly agape as he rubbed the side of his face, watching her saunter off.

Cary came up next to him and watched Santana walk off with a click of her tongue. Taking a cherry lollipop out of her mouth with a smack, the girl looked up to the taller figure and smirked. "You're so in love with her, aren't you?" she guessed. He shook his head slowly, "I am _now_."

On the other end of the room, Rachel stared at Jesse's back (seeing as he was turned away from her). He seemed to be eyeing the Jell-o on display, but most importantly: he was alone. See, the silent rivalry between them since the other day had been bothering her to no end and she felt it only right to put her uneasiness to rest. She wanted to just make nice with him so that the tension between the teams could finally go away. Sure, it felt great to put them in their place earlier in the day. But, a nagging part of her kept saying she should be the bigger person and just _talk _to him already. Which she was about to do seeing as her feet were bringing her to where he was sitting (at a table by the queue, a couple of tables from where he was previously seated).

She stopped in front of Jesse and waited for him to turn towards her. He _had _to see her through his peripheral vision. Rachel felt her heart pound in her ears and her blood race to her cheeks. _Why_, she had no clue.

Okay, he wasn't going to look up.

She cleared her throat noisily, which did the trick as his hazel eyes flickered over to her. "Hello," she managed a bright smile, ignoring the intensity of those god-forsaken eyes she was definitely not prepared for. "Hi," he pressed his lips into an acknowledging smile. Sensing that that was all he was going to say for now, she quickly prattled on. "I'm Rachel Berry. I'm captain of New Directions," she introduced herself, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her appearance from his penetrating gaze.

He nodded and half-smiled. "Right. You're the sunshine and meadows girl."

He was definitely playing his cards close to the chest for round one.

Rachel immediately felt her cheeks warm with anger. How _dare _he? Especially after her emotionally demanding rendition of a _very _difficult Barbra classic! How could he still choose to not take her seriously? To make matters worse, his perfectly even smile definitely didn't make up for the sarcasm.

Well, two can play at that game.

"And you're the glitter and pyro boy," she placed a hand on her hip challengingly.

"Ooh, Taylor Swift has a brain, huh?" his voice was low, gravelly. The smile was definitely gone.

"Wow, Joe Jonas has an attitude," she snapped fiercely back.

She definitely did not expect the smirk to return to his handsome face. "I wouldn't break up with you over the phone," he murmured, leaning back in his chair coolly.

"_What_?" Rachel's voice escalated a few pitches as she narrowed her eyes upon him. She could physically feel her blood pressure rising. And she sure as hell didn't care that they were in the middle of the cafeteria where anyone could bear witness to their argument. "Who said we were even a _couple_?" she hissed angrily.

"You did. Taylor and Joe. Joe and Taylor..." Jesse explained casually, watching her with amusement in his eyes. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, ready to lash out whatever painfully searing insults she could think of. If only she could think of something much more clever than 'Shut Up'. He noticed this and sighed. "Or I could be Jake Gyllenhaal. Seems more current, don't you think? Whatever works for you," he added as his smirk grew into a slight smile, totally at ease with the situation.

"You know I didn't mean... What I meant to say was..." all Rachel could think of doing was scream in total frustration. But, truly? There was no bloody way out now. So, Jesse decided to put her out of her misery.

"Listen, _Rachel_," he allowed her name to roll off his tongue easily. "You saw me. You worked up your courage to come over here and talk to me," he smiled genuinely for the first time in their conversation. "Admit it. You're fishing for a date."

A DATE? A FREAKIN' DATE?

At this point, she contemplated murder. She was about to go all homicidal maniac on his ass. Maybe she could be let go on account of provocation... That happens, right? Good God, who _wouldn't _want to strangle this jerk after five minutes worth of interaction?

"I wouldn't go out on a date with you even if we were the last two people alive," she shot back steadily, her temper almost reaching a breaking point.

Jesse's smile bloomed into a full-blown grin. "That's usually what the girl says to the guy before they ride off into the sunset..."

"SHUT UP!" Rachel yelled.

Boiling point: found.

"No need to get your panties in a twist. I was just trying to have a decent conversation," he shrugged in nonchalance, playing her out to be the maniac in this... this thing they currently had between them.

"You do _not _reserve the right to talk about my _panties _at all, Jesse St. James," the brunette growled at him warningly before turning to stride off in the opposite direction. She would NEVER speak to his pompous ass ever again; she'd make sure of it.

"Nice chatting with you, Rachel Berry!" he called after her, only solidifying her complete and utter loathing towards him.

The girl was definitely not how he had expected to turn out to be. Despite her bubbly appearance, she wasn't an airhead. Despite her preppy choice in attire, she wasn't one to back down from a fight. Despite the fact that she wasn't in VA, she was _almost _as good as him, talent-wise. She didn't even falter, much less shrivel under his stare like every other girl did.

Jesse hated surprises and he despised being wrong... especially about people.

And so far? Rachel Berry was turning out to be a whopper of a misjudgement.


	6. You Don't Fight Fair

**Author's Note: **Greetings, salutations, and hi.

First off, I am immensely sorry for the long hiatus. It's a crazy story, but I'm not going to get into that (unless you ask me to)... Long story short, I was in military-style boot camp for 3 months and I had little to no access to cell phones (much less Internet) while I was there. I swear to you I'm not even lying. It was a government thing and all selected high school graduates are randomly chosen to go. SO, I am really sorry again.

I started this chapter before camp and left it to sit in my laptop for three months. I just finished it and I sincerely hope you guys like it. Just bear in mind that my mojo's still warming up so I hope I've eased into the groove enough for y'all to enjoy this chapter.

As always: READ, ENJOY, and REVIEW.

(God, I've missed typing that out)

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"Do you think she'll notice?" Mike Chang mumbled quietly to the three guys seated beside him.

"Shut up. Just don't say anything," Matt covered his mouth with one hand, feigning indifference.

"Shit! I think she did! No, wait... she's just checking her shoulder..." Finn shifted in the plush chair, knowing full well that ducking would only make him look like a jackass (considering he's six foot ten thousand)... but he did it anyway.

Puck resisted the urge to beat the living crap out of his good friend, and settled with just nudging the quarterback roughly. "I swear to all that is fucking holy, man... to _never _sit with you guys again," he uttered in pure, unadulterated exasperation.

It was another day of auditorium-sharing between VA and ND. It had been somewhat awkward the first time they'd crossed paths to begin their routine... Though, the awkwardness had fuelled extra effort in staying out of each other's ways. Hence, there hadn't been any fires to put out quite just yet. The second day, however, had yet to unveil itself as both VA and ND now sat in the auditorium, watching the janitor sweep up the stage before actual rehearsals could begin.

Mike, Matt, Finn, and Puck, on the other hand... found Cary Yeung to be a little more interesting to observe.

Apparently, she was in the midst of running through her steps for a Queen number, 'Another One Bites The Dust', all by her lonesome in one of the aisles.

"_That _is a good butt," Finn piped up once more, earning a series of appreciative agreements from the rest. "High, tight... very nice," came Puck's interjection as they continued to mutter said discussion amongst themselves. Nodding, Matt voiced "Indeed," along with Mike's nods of approval.

The buzz died down when they watched Artie wheel into the picture, stopping by their object of scrutiny. The boy seemed to comment on her attire, pointing out the 'AC/DC' tank top and plain sweats she had on.

"Ooh... Y'know what? Chicks don't dig jabs about what they've got on," Puck winced, noticing Cary's frown to what Artie had said.

"Yeah... Quinn kicked me out of my own car when I asked why she wore her cheerleading uniform to Breadstix once," Finn's nostalgic admission about his once-girlfriend caused a solemn tone to penetrate the atmosphere of their conversation for about five seconds before it returned to normal.

Startled by Cary's sudden outburst of laughter, it definitely made the four guys sit up in their seats.

"Dude, Abrams is _pimpin'_ _it_ _out_!" Mike grinned as they witnessed the girl run her fingers through her hair self-consciously while Artie continued to engage in conversation.

"Wait a second, she totally blew me off yesterday!" the 'Puckzilla' exclaimed resentfully, ignoring the fact that anyone could listen in on their discussion. Matt snorted knowingly, looking over to his agitated friend. "Boy's got more game than you, Puckerman."

"She's gay."

The McKinley High boys turned around in their seats simultaneously to see two Vocal Adrenaline members standing before them. Michael Jones (shaggy-haired and smirking) as well as Tristan Caine (blond and absolutely disinterested by the entire situation). Seeing as the foursome merely looked at them in a mixture of perplexity and caution, Michael chose to repeat himself casually.

"Our lovely Miss Yeung? Yeah, she's not interested in dudes."

At that, there came a collective murmur of realization amongst the ND boys (minus Artie who was in the midst of explaining his ties to the Jazz club and his influence upon it to a girl who wouldn't let a male within five foot radius of her 'lady business').

"You know... a rug-muncher, a muff-diver, a kitty-puncher..." before Tristan could go on in that sinfully mind-numbing monotone of his, Michael stopped him.

"They got it, man. They got it," he mumbled with a pained expression on his face, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets.

It was then that Puck recognized the joker as 'skinny-goateed-jackass-begging-for-a-beatdown' from the other day. "Hey, I know you," the statement came across as random to the rest of the group, including the floppy-haired VA member as well. Furrowing his brow, the guy managed a charming smile with a shrug of his shoulders. "You should...? You probably stole my tater tots when I wasn't looking in the cafeteria yesterday," he joked, earning a round of friendly snickers from the rest.

Progress.

However, that delusion was immediately deflated when Puck rose from his seat with a menacing scowl. "Santana's off the market, smart-ass," he responded with zero-humour, prompting a confused "Huh? She is?" from Finn (an apt question, seeing as the girl and Puck weren't even an actual couple to begin with). Ignoring the taller boy's interruption, Puckerman continued without missing a beat. "I saw you talking to her."

"Wow, I had no idea she wasn't allowed to interact with other people," the VA member now matched Puck's low, warning tone whilst taking a few steps closer to his adversary. From behind, Tristan rolled his eyes as he sensed he would now have to break a fight up in five minutes. In the meantime, the 'Puckzilla' didn't falter, but instead marched right up to the guy without hesitation. "Not with you, dickwad," he growled dangerously, balling one hand into a fist.

"That's really up to her now, isn't it?"

"Look, we could do this with you walking away or with you and a broken jaw. How does that sound?"

"Listen Puck... It's Puck, right? Right. Puck, I don't wanna get off on the wrong foot here, but..."

Whatever Michael had attempted to convey was lost when the mohawked football player shoved him harshly into Tristan. Stumbling backwards, the blond acted as a cushion to Michael's almost-fall. Regaining control of his footing, the guy immediately lunged towards the (now) rival only to be pulled back by his fellow VA star as Puck was held firmly by thrashing arms (courtesy of Finn's successful restrain on him).

"Cut it out, man! Stop!" the ND male lead yelled, getting in between the two boys as they continued to exchange death threats to each other.

"Don't provoke me, Puckerman!"

"You'd better watch your back, twinkle-toes, or I will seriously fuck your shit up."

And with a dark mutter of "I'm outta here," Puck brushed past his teammates furiously before stalking off and out the auditorium. He definitely left the rest of the group a little graceless to say the least. Before either side could launch into further disagreement, Jesse hollered over to them from the piano bench on stage left.

"Mike!" he addressed his team member, only to be responded with a simultaneous answer of "What?" by both VA-Mike and ND-Mike. There was a momentary lapse of confusion as MJ and MC exchanged looks. Stifling a groan, the team captain shook his head wearily while saying "Jones... Mind saving the theatrics for rehearsal?"

Barely registering the irritated "sorry" muttered by his teammate, Jesse turned back to face the piano he had abandoned seconds ago. Glancing up, he acknowledged the fact that Evan was staring straight at him. "I Didn't Mean To Turn You On," she uttered with a toss of her blond hair.

"What?" he answered sharply with a confused arch of his eyebrow.

The ballerina looked annoyed as she bit back a growl. "The song, Jesse... You know, Mariah Carey, Robert Palmer, Cherelle? I'd like to try it out, so play the damn song!"

"Only when Hell freezes over will we _ever _sing something from 'Glitter', Evan. Jesus..." came the team captain's exasperated answer.

At that point, Nick appeared beside the fuming blond girl with a knowing smirk. "Or 'Pyro'," he added smoothly, earning a dark glance from his wavy-haired best friend. "... Or 'Glitter _and _Pyro," unaffected, Nick continued as his smirk grew into a full-blown laugh.

"You heard us?" Jesse questioned lamely, knowing full-well what the answer was going to be.

"Brotha, a deaf-blind-mute-stuck-in-the-basement-all-the-way-in-Timbuktu-son-of-a-bitch could hear you and Miss High and Mighty tear each other a new one yesterday," chuckling, Nick shook his head while Evan took that as her cue to leave (because really? She had no interest in listening to any further discussion regarding the irritating brunette from ND).

Placing her water bottle on top of the piano, Andrea too decided to chime in. "Do you have some sort of a problem with her, Jesse?"

Jesse rolled his hazel eyes with a small chuckle. "I hardly know her. Whatever exchange between us has _barely_ developed into anything; much less even a 'problem'," his brilliant explanation hung in the air as he spotted said adversary (this time with two other girls: the one with the crazy outfits and the other with the insane pipes) heading towards his direction.

"Hello. We would like to use the piano, please," Rachel sent the group a sweet smile while stopping right beside the musical instrument. With murmurs of "Sure" and "Go ahead", Nick and Andrea started to gather their music sheets. Even Evan swung by to grab her own things upon the top of the piano (well, not before muttering a few choice swear words in the process). The tiny brunette felt a trickle of warmth, which was something she hadn't been getting from Vocal Adrenaline for the past day and a quarter. Thinking that things were looking up, she had almost forgotten about the boy on the bench.

The one not moving an inch.

"No."

All movement by the piano froze at the sound of Mr. St. James' voice. Rachel bit back an angry huff and instead forced an indulgent smile upon her pretty face. Turning to look at the source, she was prepared. Oh, she was _so_ prepared. She knew very well that his cool hazel stare was disarming and that his casual smirk was enticing. Not to mention his ease in any (or every) conversation he carried was... alarmingly composed to say the least. But that didn't matter now because all she saw before her very eyes was a very. annoying. boy.

And Rachel Berry did not take too kindly to very annoying boys.

"And why is that?" her voice sounded surprisingly pleasant as Jesse seemed to find pleasure in that fact.

"Because we're not done yet."

"It's been half an hour since you started. I think your vocals should be warmed up enough by now," the strain in her voice began to surface as she countered through gritted teeth.

"Ah, see... The stage is but a place where dreams are born... Days? Never planned," Jesse answered playfully, relishing the angry flush that started to colour Rachel's cheeks. He was really beginning to piss her off, that was clear. Especially by referencing a work of art he obviously thought she had no idea about.

"'_Peter Pan'_? Really?" she scoffed, earning a surprised raise of his eyebrows in return. "I pegged you as the 'High School Musical' type," crossing her arms, she gave him no room to interject before prattling on even more. "Or pray tell, are you one of those people who could actually name the person claiming to have a degree from the 'Gary Conservatory of Music'?" she was challenging him and he knew it.

He fucking loved it.

(Well, only because it gave him the opportunity to showcase his undeniable wit in the area of discussion. Yes. That was it.)

"Harold Hill. The Music Man," with a steady voice, he noted the slight narrow of her eyes before he quickly hit her with a question as well. "_It's no great shame to be poor, but no great honour either_," the playful lilt in his smile was gone, but replaced with a much more serious hardness to it.

"_Oh_, that's from 'Fiddler on the Roof'," Rachel placed one hand on top of the piano as the other rested on her hip. "_'Come on, Chief. You know I got what it takes. Don't make me brag'_," repeating the quote, she upped the pitch of her voice just a tad to sell the line.

Jesse stood to his full height, towering over her figure effortlessly. "'Damn Yankees'. And an apt choice for you too, seeing as Lola put more emphasis on talent and not brains," he gave a sardonic smile in reply to her little noise of disbelief. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish as he crossed his arms over his solid chest. "_'I have hot pants for you'_," the VA captain's voice dropped to a low timbre as he leaned in closer towards his tinier counterpart. What surprised him was the fact that Rachel too leaned in with an equally dangerous tone to answer. "Would you like some ice?" she was definitely unfazed, their faces only mere inches apart.

"ANYTHING GOES!" Kurt's voice rang throughout the room, making his presence by the piano known. Both Rachel and Jesse turned sharply to look at him, realizing that practically everyone had gathered round them to watch what seemed to be a Broadway trivia showdown. Seeing as the attention was now on him, Kurt cleared his throat noisily before calmly repeating, "'Anything Goes'. That's the answer."

"Yes, _Kurt_. I realize that, thank you very much," Rachel's grumpy response to her teammate's outburst definitely signalled as though a PMS from hell was looming. As the brunette moved on to reference a line from 'Guys and Dolls' (big mistake, seeing as Jesse was Sky Masterson in the school production just last year), the effeminate adolescent fanned himself as consequence to the heated display between his team captain and Mr. Sexy Pants there.

"Girl, you are **flushed**," Jenny mumbled from beside Kurt as she rested her chin in the palm of her propped up hand. Noting that the VA member was talking about him, he also remembered that their previous encounter hadn't really been a pleasant one. "It's crowded. And noisy. But, I still want to stay and see how this works out," he managed to reply cautiously enough through the loud repartee between the two so-called leaders.

"Oh. Oh my God. He's done this before," Jenny sighed disdainfully, eyes trained on the pair.

"Really?" Kurt arched an eyebrow, he too focusing on the duelling duo.

"Yeah. With me."

Turning to face her, Kurt's interest was piqued as he murmured, "Do tell."

"I used to have a little problem with weight awhile ago... And I had heard that Jesse kept cancelling my doughnut orders during practice. So, hel-lo... needless to say I was P.O-ed. After I found out, I called him out straight away and was like 'Yo, Jesse. Come say what you have to say to my fucking face you fucking vagina'... it was this whole melodramatic thing and it turned out it wasn't him who kept cancelling the orders, but it was a mix-up in the deliveries..."

"Let me stop you right there, Jenny," holding up his hand, he squinted slightly at the effort of processing what she had just told him. "How does that have anything to do with what's going on right here?"

"Yeah, I sort of realized it didn't quite click together like halfway through the story," sending him a blank look, Jenny shrugged her slight shoulders in nonchalance.

"You are one weird lady, Jen."

"You are one good listener, Kurt," the wonder in her voice was definitely drowned out by the growing retorts flying back and forth between Rachel and Jesse.

"Listen, Sunshine... as much as I'd love to stay and chat, some of us are actually here to practice. And from the looks of it..." Jesse regained his cool demeanour (almost lost it back there), pausing only to glance at the rest of New Directions and back to a furious Rachel Berry before him. "... your team sorely needs it."

The high-pitched gasp emanating from Miss Berry's parted lips had inevitably joined in with ND's chatter of protest as well as VA's amused snickers. Like the maestro of mayhem he undoubtedly was, Jesse took that as his cue and offered the girl a heartbreaking smirk before turning to leave the stage.

As if she was going to let him have the last word again.

"Jesse St. James, don't you dare walk away from me!"

That got everyone to shut up.

Slowly, the young man turned around in his spot. Arching an eyebrow pointedly, it was meant to shake Rachel up into a stutter. Well... no such luck because, seriously? She was not amused. Not that he was intimidated by that in any shape or form.

"I have no idea what your problem is, so I'm just going to tell you mine, you insufferable little man," hands firmly upon her hips, she narrowed her eyes at that cocky look on his face as he exchanged humour-filled glances with the guys from VA. Oh... she was definitely going to tell him.

"Just because you're not _as_ physically repulsive as your personality is, that doesn't give you the right to treat people like something you found on the bottom of your shoe," as she advanced towards him steadily, she could practically feel the smiles etched on her teammates' faces; a little unsure to say anything, but ecstatic that drama was happening in their otherwise repetitive routines.

"You are intellectually one-dimensional, insensitive, stupid, selfish..." hearing her effortlessly list his so-called qualities, the careless smirk on Jesse's face began to slip. Taking that as a good sign, Rachel sucked in a breath before letting out a snort of laughter and continuing on.

"... You have no tact whatsoever, a demented sense of humour and your hair looks really retarded today!" that last jab triggered him to launch into defense mode (showface be damned). Ignoring the exaggerated 'oohs' and 'ouches' from the crowd, he took a step closer to her while responding with a simple and hard "Don't call me stupid, Sunshine."

On a normal day, Rachel would've probably swallowed nervously at his stern tone despite the even facade he held. Hell, on a normal day, she would've melted the moment he turned to raise an eyebrow in her direction. But, this was no normal day and this was no normal relationship between them.

"Oh, of course! To call _you _stupid would be an insult to stupid people!" she growled, having had just about enough of his infuriating tactics in riling her up.

Ouch.

Jesse looked over his shoulder and to his teammates who caved in and began laughing along with the rest of the group. Shooting them a look that clearly meant 'Shut The Fucking Hell Up', Rachel didn't give him the chance to reply because she barrelled on forwards. She raised her hands and shook her head, gaze never wavering from him.

"You know what? I'm done. I am done with you. I am done with your antagonizing being. Just stay away from me and stay the hell away from my team. Got that?" and without waiting for an answer, she simply awarded him another scathing look before marching off down the stage to the sound of pure, unadulterated ND cheers.

The VA captain stared at the slowly disappearing tiny figure, also catching sight of the wheelchair boy mouthing 'Eat That, Sucka' as the rest of ND followed her. How the fuck did that happen? He just stood there like a bitch and let her tear him apart. In front of both teams, no less.

Clapping a hand on Jesse's shoulder, Nick passed by with a knowing "_Hasn't developed into anything,_ huh?"

Hearing his best friend repeat what he had just uttered moments ago, there was no denying that he felt like he'd just had the snot beat out of him by the class bully (all five feet and two inches of her). Where were his comebacks? Where was his snide expression that caused all females to lose their voice in the middle of a sentence?

He clenched his jaw, and rubbed the back of his neck as VA dispersed to continue whatever rehearsals they were in the middle of before the whole showdown happened. Rachel was toeing the line here. She somehow managed to keep surprising him, and that was something he wasn't used to. No one had ever succeeded in taking him off guard quite as often as Rachel has.

Jesse inclined his head and searched the auditorium for any sign of her, but it seemed that ND decided to move their practice to the gym for the time being.

He had noticed her staring at him when she thought he wasn't looking. He noticed her squirms whenever he had entered the room before this. He noticed her lingering stares. He noticed her secret smiles and the way she bit her bottom lip before looking away each time his eyes met hers. He knew she wanted him. Yet, she'd come in here and laced into him, knowing it could completely turn him off. The problem was, her little self-righteous tirade had completely turned him on.

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**Author's Note: **Yes. Jesse got pwned.


	7. Put Up Your Dukes

**Author's Note: **The heat is on. Both teams are beginning to feel the growing tension and I think Jesse explains the situation quite perfectly in this chapter. It seems that our leading stars have a lot on their hands (aside from their own personal differences). The only thing worse than having to deal with _**personal teenage rivalry and sexual frustration**_ is having to deal with _**personal teenage rivalry and sexual frustration**_ in ADDITION to everyone else's Personal. Teenage. Dirtbag. Problems.

READ, ENJOY, and REVIEW!

* * *

"This can_not_ be happening," Rachel Berry mumbled quietly to herself.

Oh, but it was.

She had spent the first half of rehearsal period successfully dodging any and every Vocal Adrenaline member she laid eyes on. Particularly one who held a certain captaincy title for said team. She didn't know why, but she now felt a tad embarrassed at her sudden outburst from earlier in the day. Although she emerged victorious in their little 'show-down', it didn't take away the fact that she totally lost her cool back there.

And now?

Now she stared at the image before her. The image being: Jesse St. James nicely lounging in her seat at the front of the auditorium. The seat she had booked by placing her pink bag upon it. The seat he obviously knew was hers since he had unceremoniously put said bag on the floor beside his feet at the moment.

Maybe Rachel was being childish, but she wanted to practice her scales and that seat had been perfect to do so... pretty much away from the rest of the teams and comfortable in its own right. And maybe she could've taken another seat in that section, but he would still be _sitting there_... obviously ready to judge her mercilessly as she had done to him.

She didn't know if her ego was ready for that. Not yet, at least.

The brunette didn't realize what she was doing until she noticed her feet bringing her towards him. She steadied herself, not wanting to create another scene like before. In fact... Rachel was pretty damn calm once she approached his relaxed figure. He seemed engrossed in a book, body leaned back in the _(her)_ seat.

"Excuse me, Jesse. But I was wondering if you would be so kind as to move to another seat for the time being?" Okay, she was laying it on a little too thick. It would've actually been convincing if her smile seemed just more genuine and less... pained.

He turned a page.

Rachel gave a dry, humourless laugh. "I see how this is going to be played out. You're ignoring me," crossing her arms over her chest defensively, she stood her ground.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm not going to apologize. I had every right to say what I said to you before. And furthermore..." she was about to unleash an articulate, completely appropriate lecture upon him... that was if he hadn't casually opened his mouth to interject.

"For someone who knows exactly how the scene's gonna be played out, you sure have a hard time sticking to the script," the amusement in Jesse's half-smile smile seeped into his deep voice as he kept his eyes upon the book.

"What? I didn't say anything about a..."

"Which part of my ignoring you makes you think you're welcome?" he interrupted easily, turning another page of his book.

"Look, could you just get up and head over to your cronies? They seem to adore you and you look like you could use the ego boost to better that mood of yours," Rachel answered in exasperation, freeing her arms from their guarded position to gesture wildly with them.

"I'm busy."

"Doing what exactly? What could cause you to be physically incapable of simply moving to another seat?"

He said nothing in return. Instead, the uncharacteristically quiet young man merely lifted his book higher so she could see the cover. It was 'Book of Longing' by Leonard Cohen. She read the title out loud and heaved an irritated sigh when he continued to read on.

Jesse was playing hardball and it pissed the hell out of her. She convinced herself that he was behaving unfairly because... well... he deserved everything she had dished to him! Okay, maybe she wasn't Miss Perfect Company herself, but he really shouldn't provoke her again. She _really _didn't want to seem like the bad guy in this, though Jesse made it extremely hard for her not to.

She tapped her foot impatiently and continued to stare icily down upon him.

He offered her foot a side-glance before shaking his head. "Ever watch that 'Winnie the Pooh' episode where everyone intrudes Piglet's house? God, I hate it when people do that."

Rachel couldn't decide whether she wanted to laugh or stare at him in surprise. Was that supposed to be a joke? Seeing his indifferent facade, there was a fifty percent chance he was serious and another fifty that he was just a fucking master of sarcasm. In any case, she caught the Pooh bear reference considering her love for children's programmes (The Wiggles, Carebears, etc...).

"Oh for Pete's sake, I just asked you to go sit somewhere else!" her voice increased a few octaves, not quite believing that this was turning into an issue.

"And _I_ ignored it and moved on," to add insult to injury, he placed both his feet coolly upon the plush seat in front of him.

The brunette narrowed her chocolate brown eyes into slits. "Is it so hard for you to just _get off my back_ today? Just today?"

At hearing this, Jesse closed his book and tossed it to the chair beside him. "Why? Do you wanna try it standing instead?" smirking at the appalled gasp of his adversary, Rachel was proving to be no match for his lascivious sense of humour.

"You know what? It comes as no surprise that _**you**_ would reference a _**pig**_. The difference is little to none," she gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, poison dripping in her words.

He grimaced while clutching his chest, feigning literal heartbreak. Absorbing her un-amused scowl, his theatrics transitioned into a light-hearted chuckle that reverberated in his chest. "Why are you so _mean_ to me? If you want to spend _this _much time with me _this _bad, all you have to do is ask... preferably in a French maid costume. And maybe on your..." alarmed by where he was lecherously taking the conversation to, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut in frustration and cried "Enough!"

Not giving him the chance to interrupt her, she barrelled on quickly in a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. "God, what is wrong with you? Is there some sort of psychotic asshole quota that needs to be filled at Carmel?" expertly hiding the fact that she was super flustered by his casual undoing of her composure, Rachel furiously fought down the blush that began to colour her cheeks. She failed, of course.

"Jesus, take a Midol..." he muttered, unaffected by her outburst this time.

"GET OFF!"

He actually surprised her by getting to his feet. As he moved closer to pass her by, he leaned in casually to say "Only if you help me." Without waiting for a response, he smirked playfully and walked away.

Jesse St. James finally found Rachel Berry's weakness: double-entendres.

Registering what he said and managing to close her jaw-dropped mouth, the brunette whipped around to scathingly call out to him, "Jesse, you are a sleazy jackass!" not forgetting to enunciate each and every word she meant.

Turning around to walk backwards as he faced her, the taller counterpart offered her a fake leer, "I love it when you talk dirty, Berry," to which she replied with a dramatically huffy sit-down in her desired seat. "Psycho," she repeated darkly in annoyance.

Outside in the hallway, Quinn filed her nails and compared breast sizes with Santana. "Yours are bigger," the blonde concluded, furrowing her brow. "D-uh. Yours are perkier though," the deputy head cheerio released her own chest fruit from her grasp and shrugged. "Naturally. I don't let just anyone fondle them as they please," Quinn blew on her nails, not bothering to look over to her friend. "_That _actually affects boob perkiness?" San arched an eyebrow questioningly, not really convinced. "Evidently," the ice queen smiled indulgently, meeting the Latina's refrained glower.

Deciding to simply glare at the bitch she called one of her best friends, Santana spoke over her shoulder to Brittany instead. "Britts, how long does it take to buy yourself some orange juice?"

"Ssshhh... it says on the label 'concentrate'..." Brittany stood before the vending machine, speaking in hushed tones. Quinn and Santana exchanged glances. They knew they shouldn't have turned their backs on her (even for a second).

It was at that moment two Vocal Adrenaline boys strolled over to them, cocky smiles and all.

"2, 4, 6, 8... Who do we appreciate?" Oz clapped to the spoken beat enthusiastically, acknowledging the fact that the three girls had their cheerleading uniforms on. Tristan chortled before continuing, "5, 6, 7, 8... Skanky sluts who copulate! Yay!" exaggerating a teenage girl's voice, he exchanged high fives with his fellow teammate. It was a rare moment of unity between the two... but, they took it in stride anyway. Besides: stereotypical jokes? _Always _a device that brought men closer together.

"Don't you mean: prancing boys who masturbate?" Quinn launched into action first, coolly placing her hands on her hips.

Like clockwork, Santana easily stepped in (finding their pretty much _stupid_ attempt at bringing the top bitches of WMHS down practically laughable), "It must be _hard _having to be so acquainted with your fists. Reality check: you can't pass them off as your dates to the Homecoming dance, boys."

"Does Miss Sylvester write your cheers too?"

Q and San were just going to pretend like Britts hadn't said a word.

"Rowrrr... Easy there, tiger," Michael Jones approached the little scene, hands in pockets and a friendly smile on his face. Stopping beside his teammates, his smile grew as Santana rolled her eyes. "Or should I say: tigresses?" winking in response to her stony expression, his gaze flickered to Quinn when she broke the tension with, "Who is this jack-hole?"

Ignoring the question, Santana simply told Michael to "Step off, fool."

"Hmm... No," at least he pretended to think about it. "No, no, no... no way in hell are you playing cowboy Casanova with the enemy, MJ!" came an interruption from Oz's direction (in the form of a growl). "They're just cheerleaders," was all that Michael retaliated with.

Bad idea.

"¿Excúseme?" Santana's voice dropped to a low timber as Brittany's mouth formed an 'o' of shock to the sound of Quinn's gasp of disbelief.

All at once, it became a frenzy of "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? _They're just cheerleaders_" and a whole lot of apologies as well as feeble explanations (on Michael's part alone that is). The other two weren't helping, what with their constant snickering at the whole scenario.

"You must have some sort of death wish, boy. I swear to god, I'm about to tear you a new one," Michael cringed at the sound of the 'Puck-a-saurus's voice as he entered the fray.

"This is so hot," came Brittany's comment, accompanied by a blank expression and the faintest of awe.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph..." the floppy-haired foe muttered whilst turning to face his opponent. "Are you always gonna pop out of nowhere like this?"

"Sure is," Santana answered for him, exasperation and disgust as plain as day in her voice.

"I'm bored," Quinn's distaste was probably due to the fact that two strapping, young men were fighting over someone other than her... which was why the blonde grabbed both Santana and Brittany's hands before marching back towards the auditorium.

Michael's desperate "Santana, wait!" was cut short by Puck's oncoming fist. Dodging it at the last second, the almost-victim stumbled a few steps back. "Goddamnit, Puckerman!" he was beyond pissed that the WMHS bully had successfully rattled him on more than one occasion.

"Quit moving, man! I'm trying to kick your face in!" was all Puck growled back before lunging towards him again.

"What in the _hell _is going on here?" Mercedes unceremoniously demanded, earning a startled jump from both boys. There were two things that Mercedes enjoyed: breaking up fights that were _obviously_ interfering with her inner diva mojo and tater tots. And right now? She was out of tater tots.

"Hey! Lexus, right?" relief washed over Michael as a grin spread across his face.

She narrowed her eyes poisonously. "Mercedes," she corrected with an arch of her eyebrow.

"Oh," clearing his throat nervously, he barrelled on. "You're a voice of reason, Mercedes. You wanna tell this gorilla to stop making a scene?" he jogged over to her side pleadingly, holding onto her arm for added effect.

"Get off of me, creep," she lifted her shoulder, successfully releasing herself from his grip. She wasn't really buying his puppy dog look right now. Unable to beg any further, he immediately muttered "Sorry. But, here he comes," before rushing off elsewhere to escape the scene.

Looking over to where Michael had, she immediately held up both hands against Puck's chest. "And where do you think you're going, homeboy? You best quit it or I'm gonna _make _you," she threatened him fearlessly, ignoring the crazy glare he shot her.

"Hell no, Mercedes. Now, step out of the way before my guns get out of control up in here. Wouldn't want you to get hurt," his self-absorbed tirade was interrupted by his own yelp of pain when Mercedes twisted his ear. Never letting it go, she smiled indulgently as he hunched over and squealed "UNCLE". "_I _say when it's 'hell to the no'. And right now, your ass is coming with me. Got that?" voice lowered, she raised an eyebrow once more, expecting nothing short of a "Yes, ma'am."

Puck gave her just that.

Releasing him, they began to walk back to the auditorium. "You do realize that you could get us into trouble? If you start a fight, the youth centre could kick us out. _Then _where would we practice?" Mercedes had momentarily forgotten that Puck could actually care less about the well-being of their club. He was still new to the scene and had yet to understand how it worked. "Fuck if I care," he muttered, solidifying her assumption of him. He stalked off to find his guitar in order to practice a new song he would suggest later on to Mr. Schuester.

Surprise, surprise.

Shaking her head, Mercedes craned her neck to see if she could spot anyone who would rehearse with her. Seeing Kurt, she waved cheerfully in his direction as he motioned for her to come over. Distracted by her friend, she accidentally ran into a tall, lanky blonde. It was that ballerina from Vocal Adrenaline, Evan something or other. The one who had a knack for running into people.

Before the diva could apologize, Evan had immediately retaliated with a snipe. "God! Isn't the aisle big enough for you?" she growled, fixing her pin-straight hair from any fly-aways.

Oh, boy.

"Excuse _you_?" Mercedes questioned slowly, wanting to make sure she heard right. From a distance, Kurt could sense the anger crackling around his teammate's aura. He immediately sprung from his position, ready to intervene if necessary. Back at the scene, Evan placed hands on her hips and stared her adversary down challengingly. "Or maybe you should just find one in _your _size?" smiling superficially, she put her palms together before opening them into a wide arc.

Something inside Mercedes snapped.

"Bitch, you did _not _just say that! Do you _want _me to bust your head open and see your non-existent brain?" she roared, so damn ready to wipe that smirk off of the VA girl's face. Before she could advance any further, Kurt kept his silent promise to intervene. He skidded to a stop in between the feisty firecrackers before they could rip each other's heads off. "Calm down, honey. Let's go there. It's a happy place..." he began to coax his friend, urging her to follow him to the stage.

"Uh-uh. This skinny-ass white girl just insinuated that I was heavy. Isn't that right, ho?" she wagged her finger in refusal as Evan scoffed a "Whatever" with a roll of her eyes. Kurt gulped, really not wanting to attract too much negative attention. "She's not worth it, sweetie. Come on, just..." he tried once more, though his side comment of Evan's 'worthlessness' did not go by unheard. The blonde's eyebrow shot up so high, it practically disappeared into her hairline.

"_Kurt_, is it? Tell me, have you ever been mistaken for a girl?" she crossed her arms across her chest, finding yet another ND loser to terrorize. Inhaling deeply, he allowed a serene smile to cross his features before giving her a once-over. "No. Have _you_?" he retorted snippily, immediately causing Mercedes to laugh hysterically at the suspiciously strong-jawed ballerina. Horrified, Evan let out a string of profanities before turning on her heel to leave.

Allowing her laughter to subside, Mercedes slipped her arm through the crook of Kurt's own. "Thanks," she smiled over to him appreciatively. Shrugging in nonchalance, they began to make their way towards the stage. "No, thank _you_. I've always wanted a reason to say that to her. I mean, she is _way _too tall to be a girl," he wrinkled his nose dramatically before breaking out into another round of laughter with his fellow diva.

A few minutes passed by without so much as a disturbance before an obnoxious "NOOOOOOOOO!" entered their field of hearing. Kurt looked over his shoulder and saw a clearly distressed Jenny Sweet on her cell phone, babbling away something only years of research could actually decipher. "La la la la la la la la laaa..." determined to ignore said distraction, he and Mercedes went back to their warm-ups. Another screech made them lose their focus and Kurt was ready to tell Jenny off before he found her standing beside him.

"Kurt, darling! My life is a disaster! Would you mind picking up Jorge from the groomers, please?" obviously referring to her Shih Tzu puppy, he remembered her showing him the dog's pictures in her phone. Upon hearing what she had just asked of him, Kurt invariably reached his boiling point with her. He thought they would get along, but this was impossible.

"That's it! I am not about to let you insult my intelligence or my appearance anymore with these constant errand-running requests of yours, darn it! Do I look like your servant?" he threw down his sheet music and balled his hands into fists. There was a lapse of silence as Jenny stared right back at him, eyes wide.

"Yes, come to think of it... you _do _bear an uncanny resemblance to Jeeves..." she murmured in a hushed tone (as if stumbling upon man's greatest discovery).

"ENOUGH! I WAS ABOUT TO CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT YOU! BUT, YOU'RE CRAZY!" his voice escalated about six octaves, practically reaching Mariah Carey status. His face reddened and he had successfully rendered Jenny speechless... for about five seconds.

"FINE," she squawked, finally finding her voice.

"FINE," Kurt nodded promptly, smoothing the front of his shirt with seeming purpose.

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

Andrea, who had managed to catch the last few lines exchanged between the two, came by cautiously with her brow furrowed. "Hey, hey, hey... come on, what is this? Why are you yelling at my girl?" she put her hand on Jenny's shoulder, who was clearly upset with the whole situation. She had genuinely thought she found a friend in Kurt. Well... a friend she could order around. But, a friend nonetheless.

Now, Andrea didn't usually fall on the same page as Jenny; in fact they argued most of the time. But she supposed they had formed an innate bond of sisterhood from being teammates for so long... defending her teammate came purely out of instinct.

"Your girl has been pushing _my _boy's buttons for far too long, Andrea," Mercedes cut in, shooting Jenny a nasty look in the process. "Yeah, how would you like it if the only reason the other person talks to you is simply to pick up their garbage?" he added, placing a hand delicately upon his collarbone. "That is preposterous, _Kurt_," the tiny porcelain doll grumbled, screwing up her face hideously as a form of insult to him. He did the same in return.

Lifting a hand to halt everyone's talking, "I can barely understand what you're all saying. It's like listening to a Lady Gaga album," Andrea's frown deepened before Kurt gasped audibly. "Don't you dare diss Gaga," he whispered conspiratorially. "Yes, you don't touch Gaga," Jenny muttered under her breath as she gave her teammate a sidelong glance. "Hey, I'm the one trying to defend you," the VA female lead glowered at the shorter girl, for awhile forgetting who they were arguing against.

"C-c-could we j-just get b-back to re...hears-sals?" Tina came by, quietly directing her plea to Mercedes and Kurt. Their break-time would be over in ten minutes and she really wanted to get a head start. Not that it mattered much; VA was successfully tearing their morale to an all time low with their amazing practices. Andrea shook her head dismissively, "No way. I _demand_ that all of you settle your differences now. This petty back and forth just will not do," she conveyed her order clearly, expecting them to apologise and obey like the rest of Carmel High usually did.

Tina simply stared at her, not exactly sure what the girl was expecting them to do. Hug and cuddle?

"That's not happening anytime soon," Kurt sniffed, his lips pulled back into a forced smile. Not quite believing what she had just heard, Andrea's mouth opened and closed like a fish. Had she found her voice, she would've begged their pardon. But, she didn't. Instead, her boyfriend found it appropriate to step onto the scene in that moment. "I couldn't help but overhear y'all from _way _over on the other side of the room... But on behalf of my teammates, let me just ask that you guys excuse our... uh, less than accommodating behaviour. See, we're not exactly used to extra company," Nick, ever the peacekeeper, struggled to find words polite enough to explain their little tiff.

Before the three ND members could get too satisfied with his indirect apology, Artie wheeled by to nod in agreement, following Nick's explanation. "Word, dawg," he half-smiled, totally 'feeling' what the guy had just clarified. Everyone remained silent in the time spent when Nick slowly turned to look at Artie in a mixture of befuddlement and irritation.

"_Dawg_?" he repeated in disbelief. "Boy, you must be trippin' if you think you can just call any brotha your _dawg_ and not get an 'accidental' concussion via 'shut yo ass up'..." Nick raised his left fist, "... and 'stay the hell down'," then his right fist. Though Artie was successfully (and visibly) shaken, the VA boy's threat didn't even manage to hang in the air long enough before Cary Yeung's piercing voice rang through the entire scene.

"I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL PULL THE FUCKING FIRE ALARM IF I HEAR ANY OF YOU TEAR INTO EACH OTHER ANY FURTHER!"

It wasn't even the fact that she stood on one of the chairs to elevate herself from the rest that caught everyone's attention. It was simply the mere fact that Finn, Matt and Mike were there... and it was universally acknowledged that the three had absolutely no brain-to-mouth filter.

"Oh, shit-balls. This is exactly how I pictured it would be..." Matt uttered, his eyes never leaving Cary's lithe figure before them.

"I told you. It was only a matter of time, man... then, KA-BLAM!" the Asian sensation himself gestured wildly with his hands to mimic an explosion... in this case, the explosion was obviously the girl's patience.

The piece de resistance, however, was what came next. Every group needs that one guy who comically fucks everything up, right?

"Full-out lesbian rage, dude. Yeah!" Finn exclaimed with honest joy, ready with his hand held high above his head for a high five. He wasn't expecting Matt's horrified expression and Mike burying his face in the palm of his hand. Least of all, he did _not _expect Cary to hear every single word they had just spewed out.

"I see you guys are feeling a little left out over there. Wanna let mommy help?" the sickening sweetness and the strain of her voice was bordering on horror-movie material as she shot the three boys a sarcastic smile. Ignoring the vigorous shakes of their heads, she pointed at the male lead of New Directions, "Finn, right? How tall are you?"

Refusing to pay heed to Mike and Matt's cut-throat gestures and shushing motions, he answered her somewhat unsurely. "Um... six foot three...?"

Cary's eyebrows shot up as her lips spread into an even wider smile of cynicism, "SIX FOOT THREE? I DIDN'T KNOW THEY STACKED SHIT THAT HIGH!"

Content with the crestfallen look on Finn's face, she didn't waste any time in catching the snort of laughter emitted by Mike Chang. "And you'd better keep your five-dollar mouth shut before I make change on it!" and her snarl did little to help him swallow the lump in his throat. Cary then switched her focus to a terrified Matt who automatically raised his hands in surrender. "I know, I know! You want to gouge my eyeballs out and make me eat them!" he stammered slightly at the venomous expression on her face. She stared him down her nose, hell-bent on making her point. "I probably would if I gave two shits about you," she scoffed, rolling her almond-shaped eyes.

At the other end of the auditorium, Rachel had long forgotten about her favourite seat. She stood to her full height quite motionlessly. Hands clamped over her mouth, she continued to stare at the miniature 'gang fight' happening in that very moment. She had absolutely no idea how long she stood frozen that way... but, it was definitely a hefty amount of time because she suddenly felt weak in the knees. It was probably due to her love for theatrics or plain numbness. In any case, this was a bad, bad situation she found herself in. Rachel somehow knew in her heart of hearts that she was going to be blamed for a future fight. They're all going to point at her and say, "She started the whole 'speak your mind' thing!"

Not only that, but in the event that such a thing would happen, it would be crystal clear that she had failed as a team captain. She would have failed to shepherd her teammates to success... she would have, instead, taught them to be incoherent brutes that picked fights with whomever got on their nerves. Also... they would waste precious rehearsal time. Hell, they already are!

"It's almost like a farce."

The smooth, sensual tone in Jesse's voice was unmistakable, but it still took Rachel by surprise. She wanted to kick herself the moment she involuntarily jumped in sudden alarm. She immediately set her shoulders straight once her eyes met his. Obviously amused by her uneasiness, he nodded over to the little crowd that continued to exchange scathing remarks to one another, "I assume you're taking in the beautiful scenery."

"I thought I told you to go somewhere else," the brunette decided to ignore his astoundingly insensitive comments regarding the battle royale at hand. It would really be better if she attempted to solve the problem on her own. Having him around made her select choices for the worst. Exhibit A) The VA-ND clash as a result of her opening the Pandora's Box through publicly lashing out on Jesse... not that she would ever _tell him _that.

"While I was more than happy to comply, even happier that I could enjoy the sound of my own voice reaching that elusive high F in 'Why God Why?', this little scuffle still managed to break my concentration... _which, _by the way, is extremely hard to do," he answered without missing a beat, hopping off the stage where he had appeared from.

Rachel bit back a smile at hearing his reference to a 'Miss Saigon' song.

_Damn him and his extensive knowledge of Broadway music._

It only made hating him almost impossible.

"It obviously doesn't bother you in the least that your team is bullying mine," she stated flatly, secretly wanting to know whether or not he planned on combating the issue. He merely shrugged his broad shoulders in reply.

"On the contrary, it bothers me a great deal. It's annoying and messes with the balance as well as dynamics of my team. We can't have petty arguments in the back of our minds during rehearsals now, can we?" his smirk transformed into a slight smile as he put all kidding aside for once and spoke to her about the simple facts. Surprisingly enough, an appreciative curve began to form on her lips. "I agree; we can't," she blurted out before giving much thought to it. His smile broadened slightly as he too seemed pleased that they were on the same page. He realized that he had been staring at her smiling face too long and immediately launched into damage control.

"Although," Jesse cleared his throat. "I have a slight problem with your statement. _My _team is bullying _yours_?" he raised an eyebrow sceptically, stopping a few feet away from her. Rachel too dropped whatever trace of smile on her face and shot him a pointed glare. "Are you suggesting that _mine _is bullying _yours_?" hands folded across her chest, there was no going back to friendly territory now.

He mirrored her gesture and stood tall before her, a mask of cool gratification on his face. "It's not exactly 'bullying' if both parties are lacing it into each other," he smirked in a matter-of-fact manner, as if he was the teacher to a lesser student. She exhaled in exasperation, "I'm almost afraid to ask what exactly **this** is."

Jesse's smirk bloomed into a cocky smile as he sat on the headrest of a seat nearest to him. "I like to think of verbal abuse simply as foreplay," he answered easily, never breaking eye contact with her. Rachel made a little noise of disgust at his utter lack of shame. "You need counselling," she informed him, dropping her power stance once she realized he was just fooling around.

Laughing heartily, he shook his head. "Metaphorically speaking, of course. This whole argument in the auditorium between our teammates is only the beginning. It will later crescendo through much teasing and attention until it reaches that earth-shattering climax. Now, _that's _what I'm buying tickets for," his explanation left her dumbfounded. She refused to believe that something so lewd could actually be the perfect description of things to come between their teams.

She made a face. Did he _have _to put it in such a way?

Seeing that she was obviously harried that he chose to speak to her in such a way, Jesse sighed. "You have absolutely no sense of poetry, Rachel." It was then when he felt a vibration in his back-pocket. He kept his eyes on her while reaching for his cell phone; she gave him a withering look. "There's a difference between 'being poetic' and 'being an ass'. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to break that fight up. Like a _real_ captain would," she enunciated each and every word perfectly; making sure it hit him straight to the core. With that, she turned on her heel to walk away from him.

"Make me proud, Berry! Nip that sucker straight in the bud!" he didn't even bother to look up as he said all this because a) he knew that she would blatantly ignore him and b) the text message he received definitely held his undivided attention.

'_**i've got ur package. c u l8r'**_

_**-A**_

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**Author's Note: INTRIGUE! Can any of you guess who this mysterious text sender is? And more importantly, what exactly is this person talking about?**

**Until next time.**


	8. Get Down To It

_**Author's Note:**__ Hello, everybody! First of all, allow me to apologize for the long wait. Occasionally, life happens. When life happens, I tend to prepare for college, get my driver's licence, take up random classes, go out and just lack time or inspiration to write in general. However, that does not mean that I have abandoned the St. Berry fandom. I want to write quality chapters for you guys and I can't give you a well thought out story if I'm just banging away on the keyboard to submit an update within twenty-four hours or less. It may take like ten seconds to review by simply demanding I upload a chapter faster next time, but please bear in mind that it takes much, much longer to deliver an entertaining story that I could be proud of and please you guys at the same time. I hope you all understand._

_Now, back to our story... LOTS of things going on in this chapter. It's a frenzy of plot point after plot point. __**READ**__ on, __**ENJOY**__ yourselves and don't forget to get back to me via __**REVIEW**__._

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Jesse leaned against the wall of stage right along with the rest of Vocal Adrenaline as they watched the entirety of New Directions practice one of the main songs on their set list, 'Don't Stop Believing'. They were pretty good to say the least. Everyone brought a different tone and voice to the song, yet they harmonised somewhat nicely. The only part he struggled to wrap his brain around was the fact that that football guy, Finn Hudson, was the male lead in their ensemble. The guy was barely audible in trying to keep up with Rachel.

Ah, Rachel.

It was a good thing their backs were turned on VA, seeing as they performed for an invisible audience. Jesse watched her every move with scrutinizing eyes, waiting for her to mess up. Sure, she had some pitchy moments here and there... but, it didn't take away the fact that she had a beautiful voice. One that impressed him a great deal (secretly, of course).

He lost time on how long they had been standing there, but it must have been awhile because Tristan suddenly decided to horn in.

"_**Oh, the movie never ends**_

_**It goes on and on and on and on..."**_

"AND ON AND ON AND ON AND ON!" the blonde interrupted obnoxiously through his microphone, causing ND to stop mid-song. They turned, obviously unhappy as someone cut the music. Before anyone could demand what the hell Tristan's problem was, he happily offered an explanation. "I think the stage has taken enough mediocrity for the day. It's our turn."

"No way. We have the stage now. You're on _our_ time," Finn screwed his eyebrows together angrily.

"Your time ended..." Tristan checked his wrist-watch, "... 30 seconds ago," he looked up, unaffected by ND's baffled expressions to his rudeness.

"That's ridiculous!" Mercedes growled, not about to take any further crap from the so-called high and mighty empire of the show choir circuit.

"What's ridiculous is your utter lack of ability to stay in key," Andrea retorted casually, the edge in her voice ever so apparent.

"Is being a bitch sort of a 'thing' with you ladies?" Puck arched an eyebrow, setting his jaw while running his gaze over the entire crew of VA (boys and girls alike).

"You better watch who you're calling a bitch, Puckerman," Nick stepped forward to stand beside Andrea, puffing his chest out the slightest in a moment of boyfriend-ly protectiveness.

There was a rumble of voices that began to escalate in volume amongst the two teams before Jesse and Rachel respectively stepped forward in an attempt to calm everyone down. "Alright, alright, alright... Could everyone just cool their jets for more than five minutes?" he raised both hands, waving them to ward his team off backwards. They seemed to be advancing closer and closer towards the rival team at this point. The same could be said for ND who paid no heed to Rachel's desperate "Guys, what would the Youth Centre think? Come on, Mr. Schue would be _so _disappointed!" when all she really wanted to say was "There's like 30 of them and only 12 of us! You people have _got _to be joking, right?"

Truth be told, VA definitely outnumbered them by a rough double. Though, only the senior leads seemed to be the primary focal points in stirring trouble with the ND kids. The rest simply followed their lead, and only at a minimum intensity. Honestly, they were still climbing the spotlight ladder... they had that to think about too. Hence, they simply practiced, followed their seniors' orders and didn't do much else. Obviously Jesse was the lead of all leads, the captain to their unstoppable ship, the leader of their impenetrable empire... the only other members who could be deemed as competition in terms of solos were Andrea, Nick, Jenny, Michael, Cary, Evan, Oz, and Tristan. Each and every one of the 9 seniors who survived through high school without getting booted by Miss Corcoran brought something different to the table.

Tristan was known for his fondness of old school boy bands and their musical styling. One could liken his voice to JC Chasez and that was only because he auditioned for Vocal Adrenaline back then with N'Sync's 'Here We Go'. Halfway through the song (between Miss Corcoran's declaration of disbelief and her potential storm-off), Tristan stopped and began to sing an acoustic version of 'God Must Have Spent A Little More Time on You', allowing her to take him seriously. The occasional Enrique Iglesias song never gets past him either.

Oz, on the other hand, started out as one of the youngest presidents of Carmel High's music club. He had his own turntable at home and made mash-ups on a regular basis. The guy played the guitar like a mad man (in the best of ways, of course) and the trumpet as well if he wasn't dabbling in anything else by ear. Soon after he gained more popularity through his remixes as well as free-styling techniques, Vocal Adrenaline began to use more and more of his ideas. What they didn't anticipate were his stellar vocals, reminiscent to Dishwalla's J.R. Richards which shone through his audition piece, 'Counting Blue Cars'.

One of the team's few ballerinas was Evan. She was far from the all-American sweetheart, but her honey-like voice definitely differed from her persona. The blonde could illuminate a room with her high register, though she was by no means a powerhouse. In other words, she was more like a lesser version of Mariah Carey. But, her naturally icy appeal and sensual voice still gave the other girls a run for their money. She stole attention.

Another young girl of the team, Cary Yeung had only meant to join VA to gain recognition for her band, 'The Dog's Cojones'. After all, the show choir students were treated like kings and queens in their school. Popularity was a given, unlike at McKinley where you get slushee facials for even daring to breathe the word 'jazz hands'. Anyway, Shelby was definitely impressed by Cary's vocal style... a throwback to legendary songstresses like Stevie Nicks, Janis Joplin and Grace Slick. Unfortunately, she had to make a choice between her band and her team once practices became more time-consuming. So, it was bye-bye dog cojones.

Moving on, Michael Jones, the guy who had one of the most common names in America and the most famous initials in the world was the team's crooner. He had always maintained the fact that his style was similar to singers like Robin Thicke (they could practically be brothers in terms of looks and voice) as well as Craig David. Known to be a shameless Don Juan, he and Jesse are the usual suspects when it comes to charming the ladies.

Speaking of charm and ladies, Jenny Sweet was the shortest girl with the loudest voice in VA. A bit of a lunatic, she has the potential to be a future socialite with a pill-popping and drinking problem... but, that's still under speculation. In any case, she just happens to be Vocal Adrenaline's only opera-trained singer. Though, being classically trained in that sense, solos were more difficult to obtain for Jenny. She found her voice rather troublesome in adapting to a more modern song or just to seem current. Then again, her rendition of Andrew Lloyd Weber's 'Think of Me' still manages to astound the residents of their small town enough to keep her relevant to the team.

Nicholas D. Mitchell III, or Nick for short, started off in Vocal Adrenaline simply as 'that guy who's dating Andrea Cohen' or 'Jesse St. James' best friend'. It took awhile for him to gain recognition as an independent performer worthy of some solos. Although he was more inclined towards acting, he had proven himself with his love for MoTown music (or occasional Tom Jones song) and interpretation of it. Jesse once pointed out his obsession for said songs back in their elementary school years to which Nick responded with "Those songs are the only reason I exist. I found a box full of old Marvin Gaye, Al Green and Teddy Pendergrass vinyl records labelled 'Good Times'". It was the end of _that _conversation.

Vocal Adrenaline's female lead, Andrea Cohen, had won the award for Outstanding Soloist of the Year last year, thus solidifying her status in the team. Equipped with mad vocals, she knew exactly how to rock a ballad or even an upbeat song. Even though she's been known to sound like Whitney Houston due to her powerhouse notes and big voice, the girl had always put Janet Jackson as her idol. That explained her sometimes unorthodox outfits, crazy dance routine suggestions, and penchant for big entrances.

Of course there was never a moment where someone forgot Jesse St. James when talking about Vocal Adrenaline. As the leader, everyone always pushed him to be better than the rest while keeping his teammates in line. It was no easy task, but he loved every moment of doing it. This very characteristic was what made him the man to beat.

Coming back to the scene at hand, the very same Jesse listened to his teammates continue to throw insults at the opposing team as said team countered with their own choice profanities. "Hey!" he bellowed, snatching their attention for a brief moment. Knowing full well he needed to cool them down, Jesse thought fast. "It's not their fault that discipline and punctuality don't actually exist in their already limited vocabulary," smirking, he knew superior humour always eased their tension (which it did). As all thirty broke out into laughter, Rachel and her teammates found nothing amusing about his so-called joke.

"Oh, right. I forgot. Nothing says 'winner' like mechanical routines and lack of emotion!" she exclaimed sarcastically, immediately regretting that she was beginning to pick up on his cynicism. Turning to face her fully, Jesse ducked his head much lower to match her height. "You can tell that to our three consecutive national titles," he stage-whispered, cocking his head to the side. Rachel felt the unmistakable rage within her rise to the surface, but before she could do more than just seethe, Finn broke in with an inspiring "Well, that's about to change."

"Yeah? Says who?" with an arrogant snigger, Tristan stepped towards the quarterback challengingly.

"This," and with that, Finn threw a punch to the blonde's jaw, successfully setting the rest off to engage in similar physical conduct. It suddenly became a mess of thrashing limbs and screaming voices upon the usually peaceful stage.

Letting out a shriek, Rachel took that as her cue to pounce viciously onto a less than ready Jesse who immediately fell to the floor with a startled grunt. "Rachel, what the fuck!" he yelled at the tiny brunette straddling him. "You have been really pissing me off with this superiority complex of yours, Jesse St. James!" relishing the fact that he seemed legitimately freaked out by the crazed look in her brown eyes, she roughly pulled at the collar of his shirt.

Kneeing Finn in the gut, Tristan flipped his fringe out of his eyes before growling "Not... the _face_... oof!"

As the WMHS quarterback tackled his adversary to the ground, Michael and Puck were rolling around nearby while arguing over Santana's availability.

Jumping to the side, Kurt managed to narrowly avoid being rolled over by the heap created by Puck and Michael before being surprised by Jenny's tight slap to his face. "You need to get a grip on yourself! Just because I told you to pick up my dry-cleaning once or twice doesn't mean I don't think of you as a human being!" practically screaming at the top of her lungs to be heard over the hullaballoo, her voice came out as a squawk when Kurt slapped her back. "You need to get _over _yourself, Miss Wanna-Be Diva Pants!" he hissed as the two engaged in a slap-fight.

A few feet away, Nick and Mike Chang had their own little scuffle going on what with one shoving the other. It became a two against one fight when Artie rolled over Nick's feet in an attempt to give Mike the upper hand.

Dropping to the ground in a cry of pain, Nick caught sight of Oz with Matt in a headlock. Distracted, he received another blow with a pair of wheels to the stomach. Whooping in glory, Mike gave Artie a high-five as he exclaimed "Yes! That's what's... OW!"

Unfortunately, the Asian Sensation didn't get to complete his sentence due to Hurricane-Evan-and-Mercedes crashing into him. Ignoring the minor setback, the two continued to screech insults while trying to choke each other out.

"Violence is bad," Brittany's comment went unheard as Santana and Cary crumpled to an angry heap on the floor, thrashing about as they tore at each other's hair.

As Tina did her part in trying to break Andrea and Quinn up, very little attention was given to the two captains as they themselves had their own brawl going on. Easily flipping Rachel over, Jesse immediately reclaimed the dominance in their scuffle. "You are some kind of crazy, sweetheart," he managed to get out between his intake of breaths. "Oh, get off of me, you brute! This is sexual battery!" she squeaked from under him, generally uncomfortable with how nicely they seemed to fit.

"Battery? Sexual or not, _you _were the one who jumped me!" his eyebrows shot up in a mixture of surprise and alarm at her blatant accusation. Rachel groaned and attempted to roll out from under him, but he only held her firmly down. "I am serious, Jesse! You're crushing me!" she continued to protest, using her dainty hands to shove against his broad chest with no success. He paused momentarily to silently stare down at her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly from the effort of pushing against him that she almost missed the fact that he started to chuckle from above her. She shot him an enraged glare that obviously said "_What_?"

"Are you blushing?" he asked quietly, keeping the playful grin on his face. Rachel felt her hot cheeks flush even more and tried to turn her face away from him. "_No... _I'm just feeling a little suffocated, that's all," she stammered carelessly, ignoring the tightness in her belly as she became hyper aware of his body heat pressing up against her. "Maybe you would feel better if you stopped trying to pummel me," he smiled in finality, having the decency to at least keep his voice low enough to only be heard by her. Rachel looked up at him from under her eyelashes, suddenly finding herself drawn to his features. As usual, his cool, smouldering eyes were what struck her hardest.

Damn it.

Her mind went into overdrive and she couldn't help but feel dizzy from their closeness. It just felt so... _good_. But, wrong at the same time! So, she did the only thing that Rachel Berry would do in times of confused inner turmoil with a man.

She kneed him in the groin.

Jesse's cry of pain was a cross between a long drawn groan and a breathless cough as he convulsed instinctively upon contact with the brunette's knee. She immediately pushed him off and climbed onto his back, shoving him face-down. Grabbing his left arm, she brought it to his back and pressed her knee against it. "Whoa, hey! Ouch... This was not how I pictured it," he grimaced, totally unable to escape from the twisted hold she had on him. "Oh really? And what is it exactly that has you mind-blowingly taken by surprise?" she was still gathering her bearings from their previous position, so she may as well stall. "You being a UFC fighter, that's one thing... _Jesus_..." he remarked sarcastically, only to be awarded by a firmer grip on his arm.

"Serves you right for trying to sneakily charm the pants off of me!" Rachel hissed, although she silently added that she wasn't one to complain really. It just seemed... logical that she react this way. Sure, she was always one for drama... but, she wasn't about to stake her reputation or her team on the fact that she enjoyed Jesse St. James being on top of her.

Oh, that was _dangerous _territory.

"I was going for reason and negotiation through charismatic, yet witty dialogue between us," he informed her, biting his tongue from making a perverted joke like _"I had no idea you liked it rough, Berry."_

You had to admire the boy's refrain.

A shrill, piercing whistle broke the sound barrier along with the veil of chaos over both teams. All movement gradually slowed to a halt as well as the loud voices. Jesse knew that whistle and Rachel sure as hell recognized the pair of shoes that stopped right by her and her victim. She looked up into the horrified face of Will Schuester as he stared at the entire scene, open-mouthed. Shelby, on the other hand, had her hands on her hips and wore the face of a woman about to unleash hell.

The VA captain, still under Rachel's hold (she was too stunned to move), smiled in an attempt to brighten the situation "We were just discussing our schedules."

* * *

"I am so disappointed in all of you."

Keeping their heads down low, with the exception of Puck, Quinn and Santana, the members of New Directions winced and either kept silent or murmured a feeble explanation. Mr. Schue carried on with his lecture, telling them how barbaric they had behaved back there. Though, it was pretty hard to concentrate on their teacher's speech when Vocal Adrenaline were just opposite them. As ND sat in the auditorium seats, absorbing Will's words of wisdom... Shelby made her team line up in fives and perform extreme jumping jacks while singing 'It's The Hard Knock Life' from Annie.

So, it was sort of difficult to pay attention to what Mr. Schue was saying when Miss Corcoran kept screaming things like "Spread those legs wider!" and "If you people can't stay in pitch, you can just keep jumping!" amidst VA's rendition of a classic. Obviously, the two teams were polar opposites in terms of punishment as well.

Will seemed to realize this halfway through his talk. Thus, he finally got an idea that could solve the problem at hand and went to inform Shelby of this.

* * *

Dinnertime was usually the moment both teams would part ways. It was a day full of rehearsals (and in this case, a full-fledged gang fight). All they really wanted to do was go home and avoid each other for the rest of the night. But, Shelby and Will had agreed upon a better form of punishment that could help the students repair their ties with each other (in their minds, at least). They really couldn't afford any injuries or the risk of being kicked out by the Youth Centre or worse... disqualification from the competition due to misdemeanour.

So, they made VA and ND stay back to clean the mirrors of the dance studios.

The atmosphere was silent, seeing as Will and Shelby were overseeing everyone's work. Everybody had to work with someone or some people from the opposing team. Hence, the awkward silence.

Rachel ended up with Nick and a couple of VA freshmen by a corner. At first, she had offered him a sympathetic glance when she noticed him limping slightly and he had given her a slight smile.

"I have no idea what came over me."

"I think it's called madness."

"Something inside me just snapped."

"Your sanity."

Rachel exhaled noisily to showcase her annoyance with Nick's little quips. "Could you please stop calling me crazy in different comebacks and phrases?" she mumbled grumpily to the boy beside her as he dragged a sponge down the glass, leaving a trace of soap behind. Nick blinked and looked over to her, "Have I really been doing that?"

"For the past half hour, yes," the brunette returned his questioning gaze while wiping furiously at her side of the mirror.

"Damn... I'm sorry. I didn't think you were listening."

She sighed tiredly once he began to snicker in her direction. "I hear everything people say about me. There just comes a point where it takes up too much energy to care."

The snickering stopped and Nick regained a sense of seriousness in the conversation when he said "Look, I don't think you're crazy. Trust me, I've encountered worse."

"Really?"

The VA member gave her a genuine smile as he sensed the honest curiosity (as well as scepticism) in her voice. "Rachel, I'm dating the lead to a legion of divas, also known as _**the most competitive glee club of our division**_. I'm with these people practically every day and I've known the insane son of a bitch who just so happens to be captain of said group ever since we were co-presidents of the Power Rangers club," he paused before concluding, "Girl, I _know _crazy."

Rachel let out a light giggle in response to his candid explanation and felt herself loosen up a little more around Nick. He seemed like a pretty nice guy so far in her book. "I really wish it didn't have to come down to a brawl," she shrugged her shoulders before continuing quickly, "I truly believe our teams could learn from each other."

"Word," he nodded simply in reply.

She arched an eyebrow quizzically and gave him a look that clearly meant she didn't believe that he would actually agree with her on that notion. He caught it and grinned before raising his hands in a gesture of sincerity. "Hey, I realize that we've got the slickest moves and the freshest set list in town... but only a few of us can actually perform with more than one facial expression," Nick didn't know where this bluntness was coming from, but he felt naturally open with Rachel... as if they were just two friends talking instead of rivals in danger of sensing the other's weakness.

The situation was slightly different on the other side of the room where Jesse and Puck were cleaning side by side. A sophomore VA member named Shoshandra skipped up to stand beside Jesse, asking whether or not she could sing something from 'The King and I' and get his feedback on it later. Puck interrupted with a loud snort of laughter at the obvious nervousness within the girl's voice when addressing Pretty Boy Patty (his choice name for Jesse, of course). Shoshandra sent him a scowl, "Do _you _know 'The King and I'?" she asked flatly. Rolling his eyes, the connoisseur of 'bad-ass-ness' twisted his lips into a knowing smirk. "Sure, it's some movie about Elvis," he answered confidently before going back to wiping the mirrors.

The girl stared at him, slack-jawed in shock before her captain sent her away. "Noah, right?" Jesse began casually, shaking his wiper off from any excess water. "No one calls me that, St. James. It's Puck to you," he answered disdainfully, thinking that there were better things he could do right now instead of cleaning mirrors in a dump with some fairy who weirdly looked like he belonged on the cover of a GQ magazine.

"Rachel calls you Noah."

"Since when did you pay attention to what Rachel has to say? Everyone knows you hate her."

"Hate is a strong word."

"Yeah? So is 'Taylor Swift'."

"People still remember that, huh?"

"She doesn't like being likened to anyone less than that homo music she listens to."

"I figured."

Puck furrowed his brow and glanced to the casual exterior Jesse seemed to put up. _Too_ casual, as a matter of fact. "What the hell is this? You trying to bond over Berry or something?" he asked sharply, earning a convincingly confused look from the curly-haired VA lead. "Just because we're on opposing teams doesn't mean we can't all be friends," Jesse countered with a raise of his shoulders, catching Puck's suspicious glare. "You wanna be my friend? Tell Michael Jones to leave Santana alone," he pointed a finger squarely in Jesse's direction to stress on his point.

"How long have you two been together?"

"We're not."

"... And you won't let Michael near her?"

"Basically."

"I fail to see the logic in this."

Heaving an exasperated exhale of breath, the mohawked football player turned to face a potential friend of his. "It's the desire for the unavailable. You only realize you want something real bad if it ain't yours. It's a possession issue... makes me sound like a dick, but that's just the way it is," Puck explained in nonchalance, noting the slow nod of enlightenment given by Jesse.

"Hypothetically speaking... if Santana wanted to reel you in for whatever purpose, then dating Michael would definitely be a catalyst in making _you _come to _her..._ even if she had no feelings whatsoever for Michael," he rephrased, checking to make sure he got the theory right.

"See, you're learning already," Puck affirmed, tossing the rag from one hand to another, pleased that he got his explanation across.

Chuckling good-naturedly, Jesse shook his head, "I may be more familiar with this concept than you think."

"Whatever. You still didn't answer my question... What's with the interest in Berry?" he questioned, though his tone held more disinterest than actual wonderment as he focused his attention back on the mirrors.

Jesse simply smirked to himself and continued what he was doing before.

* * *

_**Two nights ago...**_

_After rehearsals, Jesse immediately got on his vintage Triumph Scrambler motorcycle (ignoring pleas for a ride home by some freshmen on the team) and headed to A's house. He didn't make it a habit to visit A very often, but he knew that this person could be trusted in digging up information about practically anybody... which was why he assigned A to find out everything possible about one Cassidy Clark (only daughter of the chairman of Clark Foundation, an avid supporter of the arts). Ted Clark had opened a new branch for his foundation in Ohio and took that as one of many reasons to move to Akron with his family. _

_One of the foundation's key roles in the community was their sponsorship programme. Each year, the foundation would award a lucky school's theatre and art department (including glee club) a substantial amount of funding for costumes, props, instructors, the whole nine yards. The only problem was, all that funding would most likely go to Cassidy Clark's new school, Franklin Prepatory (which also housed one of Vocal Adrenaline's close competitors, Terrific Troubadours)._

_Vocal Adrenaline weren't about to let their rivals get the edge in the competition, so Shelby knew what they had to do. Get those funds for themselves. Though, they knew they had to be sneaky about it and appear nonchalant about the entire affair. They needed to attract the foundation through Cassidy. That's where Jesse steps in._

_Screeching to a halt in his informant's driveway, Jesse took off his helmet and turned the engine of his motorcycle off. _

_Aaron had been waiting on the porch swing all along with the manila envelope in his chubby, little hands. "Jesse! You made it!" he grinned brightly, hopping off his perch to jog over. "You said you had the information," the taller counterpart maintained his position on the bike, seeing as Aaron hurried over to him. "Right-o. Everything's in this envelope... pictures, background information, her schedule, likes, dislikes..." the younger boy allowed Jesse to snatch said package from his hands and watched the senior look through the documents within. _

"_Impressive. Although, I'm not even gonna ask how you obtained all this," feeling a smile curve upon his face, he shook his head from the inevitable nuttiness of it all. He took a look at a picture of Cassidy herself and absorbed her wildly curly blonde hair, tall and lanky frame, icy blue almond shaped-eyes as well as designer clothes. "Hm," was all he had to say about it before stuffing the papers back into the envelope. _

"_Wait, wait, wait, Jesse! There's more. You should know that you've got to be sneaky about this..."_

"_Aaron, I'm a master of manipulation. Give me some credit."_

"_Of course you are, I don't doubt that at all! It's just that you should make it seem like convincing her dad to fund our school is __her__ idea and not yours..."_

"_Thanks for the advice, Madame Zsa Zsa. Any more nuggets of wisdom you'd like to share?" he knew Aaron was just trying to help, but having the guy point out the obvious was just plain irritating. His short temper was probably due to the fact that he hadn't even drawn out a plan yet in hooking this girl. _

_That was when Aaron shared an actual nugget of wisdom._

"_Cassidy is famous for being a boyfriend stealer. Every guy she's ever dated was always fresh off of someone else's leash, pardon my French. She doesn't even pay attention to any single guy who hits on her because she thrives on nabbing another girl's honey purely based on the thrill and drama of it..."_

"_It reminds her that she can."_

"_Exactly! So, if you want to get her attention, you're going to need a super hot girlfriend you're madly in love with. Only then will you have Cassidy chasing after you."_

"_She'd need to be super hot and __convincing__ too."_

"_I don't disagree."_

_Jesse lowered his eyes for a moment in deep thought before an idea crossed his mind. Smiling slowly, his eyes glinted with mischief as he met Aaron's gaze. It was crazy enough to work..._

"_I may have someone in mind."_

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Do ya even need to guess who that someone is? ;)_

_Question is: how is he going to convince __her__ to go along with the plan?_


End file.
